The first time I was told I had cancer was 2009: after feeling my right cheek and my gums funny for a few times, I asked my GP who sent me for an MRI, the report didn't leave any space for interpretation, I had a lesion in my brain. It was April, by June I had seen two neurosurgeons, picked one and had surgery. Not even a month of recovery and, easy peasy, I was back to my life. I didn't understand why people kept telling me I was brave and a warrior, at the time it didn't feel scarier than having my appendix removed. Fast forward 9 years, my neuroncologis tells me that my bi-yearly MRI shows that the tumor is growing again. This time it feels less like a cakewalk: I'm more scared, more stressed, I worry more. I don't like the romanticizing of tumor: I didn't have any breakthrough after the first time, I didn't change my life, I wasn't more grateful for the things I had and the people in my life. I DON'T NEED tumor to be grateful, and I don't feel brave or a warrior for facing it: I don't have another choice. Most of the times I feel like a boo-fucking-woo, honestly, having breakdowns for dealing with the health system and bureaucracy, getting scared for things I read online and so on. I have an amazing partner and a magical family and so many friends who keep me in their thoughts, I'm lucky, but that's not the cancer's merit. I decided to start a sharing platform a few months ago, using google groups, I'm now transitioning to Caring Bridge because: - it allows for updates from other users, so Eric can write updates after my surgery - it has a planner - it makes it easier for you to comment
Note: you'll probably see banners asking for donation, that money doesn't go to me but to Caring Bridge
