Cancer Diaries

I've been thinking of many ways to write this. I even contemplated if I should write about it at all. But I've come to realize that I started this blog as a platform where I can express myself - which is something I desperately need to do now seeing that the last few weeks had been a roller coaster.

A month ago, I discovered a lump in my left breast and to spare you the agony of how the investigative procedures went about, the results came out positive... for cancer.

I was diagnosed with stage one invasive ductal carcinoma on 21st August - ten days before my planned resignation and a day after my family got into a car accident.

Up until now, I can never find the words to explain what I feel. I've lost count of the number of times I've said, "I'm fine", when in reality, I just didn't know what to say. But here it is. Baby steps.

The people closest to me had been a wreck and it felt like shit knowing that I'm the cause of it. I realized that I had to put up a facade and having my family and closest friends see that I'm fine eventually made them not worry as much.

My last day of work didn't turn out like I expected. Of course, there was the usual bickering (also known as our daily entertainment) among my colleagues but at that point, everyone also thought that I had bigger plans for myself when in reality I had this huge weight on my shoulder that may disrupt my future. I couldn't bring myself to tell them so I kept it to my social circle, which I later realize was more than enough.

The doctors I've seen said that I took the news surprisingly well. Of course, I wasn't okay with having cancer. But being a nurse has exposed me to so much worse.

It wasn't always roses and daisies. A lot of times, I was tired of having to put on a mask every morning when I wake up, supporting others emotionally when it should be the other way around and people telling me how I should combat this sickness instead of dealing with acceptance.

There were days when anger went beyond anything else I've experienced and I hate that there's no solution to this.

And then there are those who've said, "Oh, it's only stage one. There's nothing to worry about."

If you happen to belong to this group of insensitive dimwits, let me just break it down for you:
Unless you actually have cancer, you will never know what it's like to be in my shoes. Even if you have a relative, a close friend or family member who has cancer, nothing you feel can ever measure up to all the emotions and stress that a cancer patient has.

Truth be told, I wasn't just carrying my own emotional baggage - it also felt like I was carrying everyone else's.

I've tried talking to a person or two about it and they could only assure me that I won't be going through this phase alone.

Thing is, I didn't want them to tell me that everything is going turn out fine or that they will be with me every step of the way. I just didn't want to have fucking cancer.

I probably have the stages of grief all mixed up but grief itself is so twisted.

I may have a long way to go before acceptance but right now, I'm angry, sad, hurt and in so many ways, still blessed because this experience has opened up a world where I finally realize the people who really matter.

There's a high chance that I'd spend the rest of my life with that constant fear that cancer may come back and take my life one day but until that day comes, I'm just going to live.

Ever since knowing my diagnosis, it felt as though I could relate to every movie character living with cancer. So, if I were to describe the biggest fear I have, it would be through this quote:

“It’s more that I’m afraid of time. And not having enough of it. Time to figure out who I’m supposed to be… to find my place in the world before I have to leave it. I’m afraid of what I’ll miss.”
― Ann Brashares, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

Of course, being in my twenties, I'm inclined to think that I have my whole life ahead of me - and provided that the surgery goes well, I know I will.

I've written so many versions of this post and while I've always thought that I've written more raw posts in the past, I don't think I could get anymore vulnerable than this.

Right now, I'm living by the love that radiates from people around me, reading self-help articles from survivors and most importantly, my future.

And if you're reading up till here, I'm glad you did because I feel a little bit lighter sharing this part of my life with you.

So this is it friends. My exposé. I'm Artika, I'm 23 and I have cancer.