This week, after about 6 months of being a cancer patient, I’m done. Treatments have ended and most side effects are subsiding, and it’s like a switch was flipped in my brain—time to move on.
For the past several months, I’ve lived into the season of rest and healing, laying low, enjoying comfort food, and taking a break from exercise because I was sore and very tired. I gave myself permission to step away from the stress of work to finish up treatments and recover, and took frequent naps.
But now, it’s a new season. Time to get off the couch and exercise. Time to get back to eating right. Time to get back to health and put the “patient” designation behind me.
I’ve thought a lot lately about what I’m supposed to do with this cancer season. What impact does it have going forward? Am I supposed to be in some way changed or different as a result? And the answer I keep coming back to is, I don’t really know, but at this point, I don’t see this experience really being that different from any other. It’s just one of many seasons that has shaped and will shape who I am. Maybe it’ll end up having a big impact, and maybe not. Like many other experiences, I might not know exactly how it’s woven into the rest of my life until some later season, and I guess that’s OK.