Sometimes I just forget I even have cancer. I'm like all the other girls in a crowd. I'm shy around a sexy guy, I blush when someone gives me a compliment, I like girl talk and sappy movies. When the hero dies, I'm sad. Somewhere inside I still believe in Cinderella.
And then my head gets cold. I need to put on a hat and along the way to get to my hat I see the mirror. It's true then. I do have cancer. I have a distorted chest with scars. A port. No hair.
I write in my journal: "Doesn't someone else have cancer? Can I quit now?...I just want to cry -- not really. I want to hike. Swim. Be well. Run in the fields. Eat food that tastes like something other than chalk."
Courage is not winning the battle. That doesn't take any courage at all. Courage is waking up everyday and painting on a happy face. Walking with your head up when you have no hair at all. Courage is going to the hospital every three weeks to be injected with deadly chemicals designed to kill living cells. Courage is waiting it out and knowing that someday you will have a new chest that isn't hard a rocks and painfully sore. Courage is believing in a brighter future no matter how dim the present seems.
I do not find my courage in me. I find my courage in all those women that have gone before me. I find my courage in my friends that have stood beside me. I find my courage in the special man that shares his time with me. I find my courage in my aunt, my brother, and my niece who is just now starting her life. And I thank you.
