“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.” English proverb
“Take a deep breath in and hold it…”
I took a giant gulp of air and held my breath for what seemed like an eternity.
“You can breathe now.”
My legs were shaking uncontrollably from the coldness in the room and the anxiety coursing through my body.
Suddenly, a river of warmth radiated through my body as the contrast dye flowed from my chest up my neck and throughout the rest of my body.
Months and weeks of dread and anticipation have led to this point. The truth is I will be holding my breath until I get the results of this latest CT scan.
For the next few days I will be in this sort of agonizing limbo, where my future hangs on the results of today. This period is never easy. I will never get used to having to plan my future and my family’s long-term plans in three-month increments.
One of the hardest parts of cancer treatment is the not knowing. The long periods when we must wait, hold our breath in anticipation of what’s next.
It’s hard to move on after you have cancer. Whether you’re lucky enough to reach remission, it seems you are always walking on eggshells, afraid that every weird sensation is your cancer resurfacing.
It’s hard to move on, when every three months you have a doctor’s visit, blood work or a scan that will stage your fate. It’s easy to get lost in this ambiguity. It’s difficult to stay positive amidst so much uncertainty.
But that’s the reality of life after cancer.
Life gets shaded differently after treatment. Once vibrant and full of life and certainty, your world suddenly becomes colored in varying shades of gray. Everything it seems now gets filtered through a different lens.
Our past and present unique life experiences color the lens through which we view the world. And sometimes it’s the darkness that brings color to our existence and meaning to our lives. I’m slowly learning I can’t stop these waves of uncertainty, and I’m getting better at riding the waves of ambiguity. I’m starting to find new ways of balancing the heartache that comes from the not knowing.
Living in the shadow of cancer helps you realize we are all just a heartbeat away from eternity.
We never really know what an hour or day may bring. I’ve found that sometimes it's the same moments that take your breath away are the same ones that breathe purpose and love back into your life. And many times, the only thing we have control over is how we choose to react to the challenges we face.
We are all searching for our perfect endings. We want our happily-ever-after.
But I’ve learned, the hard way, there is no moving on after cancer, there is only moving forward.
We push forward through all the uncertainty and the painful side effects from our treatment. Time and time again we pick ourselves up and carry on the fight because we now realize that to live is to risk. To love is to risk. We can’t and won’t allow fear to direct our choices.
Fear likes to be in charge. It wants us to forget that we’re not in control.
Fear wants us to forget that no one has all the answers and that manipulation and worry never work.
Fear encourages us to play out negative scenarios in our mind for our future and the future of the world.
But I’m slowly learning when I spend less and less time listening to fear and my inner critic, through practice, a little willingness and a shift in perception—how quickly I can rise above it.
Life is about not knowing, having to adapt, taking each moment as it comes and make the best of it—without knowing what’s going to happen next.
Challenges will come. Results may surprise. In the end, what we are waiting for is not as important as what happens to us while we are waiting. We must trust the process and let life unfold naturally. Just as butterflies remind us through their own transformation to keep the faith—all will work out exactly as it was meant to be.
"The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough." - Rabindranath Tagore