Sometimes I write an entire post, save it and leave it on my computer. It sits there, untouched until I happen to come across it in my search of something. Today, this happened. I found a post that I called The balancing act. This post was written just two months ago and as I read it, I realized that my thoughts have already shifted ever-so-slightly from the way I felt when I first wrote it. Yes, I still feel a slight pang or a slight worry every time we talk of the future. But with each passing day, despite still undergoing treatment, I feel a little less afraid and a little more secure. It feels good to know that time does actually heal the mind along with the body. No, the future is still not guaranteed, but I am now looking forward to it as if it were, and yet still enjoying the everyday moments in life. That, for me, is the true balancing act.
Here is my prior post, written February 27th:
I read a quote on a blog I follow the other day. It said that writers often write about what they need to hear (sorry, despite searching I can’t locate the post that I read this in). Seems obvious, right? Well, I reread it a few times and it left me thinking quite a bit. This blog began as a way to share my story and yet somehow it also transitioned into a way for me to talk to myself too. So today, I’m going to do just that. I’m going to write about something that is on my mind regularly but that I don’t speak about often. But, it’s something that I need to hear and maybe, just maybe, someone else does too.
I’ve mentioned before that if cancer teaches you nothing is, it is that life is short. Each day is a blessing and needs to be embraced like a long lost friend. I am grateful for the life that I am blessed to have and the family and friends that share it with me.
Have I beaten cancer? – YES!
Is cancer gone from my life forever? …yes?
I tend to be the type of person who overthinks and overanalyzes and questions each decision that I make because I want to ensure that I am truly making the best decision. Now, I have certainly had my fair share of split decisions and regrets but that has taught me to take my time and think through the decision before making it. I weigh the pros and cons of each, sometimes to exhaustion, and decide which choice is the right one. Cancer adds a layer of complexity to my decision making. A layer that I hate having and yet a voice in my head never lets me forget to consider.
This voice often asks me, will you be here?
It’s a question that has no answer and frankly, if it did, I don’t know that I would want to know it. But it’s there. The ever lingering question that has no purpose but to make my heart feel a slight pang and my breath catch a little.
See, the think about this question, is that it has always been there. Every day and every decision that we make, we rely heavily on the fact that tomorrow will be there and the day after that will be too. But it isn’t guaranteed and I probably should have been paying more attention to that fact long before cancer came knocking.
So every decision that I make, big or small, is a balancing act. I weigh my options and once I’ve mostly made up my mind, the little voice pipes up and asks will you be here? This causes my heart rate to rise slightly and break just a little. Then I think rationally through the question. If the answer is no, would I be putting my family in a poor predicament? If the answer is yes, will we be able to enjoy it?