On Friday (Jan. 29, 2021), I go in for my six month check up that includes lab/blood work and CT scan. This will be my 18th CT scan since I first contracted colon cancer in 2013. Fourteen of those scans have happened since 2017 after recurrence (November 2016) that resulted in a five-year high-surveillance program that included scans every three months for three years and scans every six months for two years. I’m now in my last year. According to my timeline, I should reach the five-year benchmark this summer. Assuming that I remain NED until then, my oncologist will declare me as "cancer free." But the cancer journey doesn’t end there. Continued surveillance treatment will most likely include annual lab/blood work - for years. And there’s the reality that one in six cancer survivors develop a second cancer. This isn’t the same as recurrence; rather, it’s developing a wholly new cancer in one’s body. Then, there’s all those CT scans. CT scans use X-rays, which are a type of radiation called ionizing radiation. It can damage the DNA in your cells and raise the chance that they'll turn cancerous. In normal circumstances, having a few CT scans shouldn’t be a problem. But having as many as I’ve had raises my concern. So, I’ll never really be "cancer free." There’s the trauma and associated PTSD of surviving cancer twice and, in particular, the chemotherapy and side effects that I went through. Although chemo has had a significant role in overcoming cancer, some side effects remain today. Additionally, I've been immunocompromised as a result of chemo and leaves me in potentially dire straits should I contract Covid-19. The fear of The Beast lurking in some dark corner in my body is, to me, part of being "cancer free." This disease doesn't let you go scot free. However, one doesn’t have to live a fearful life. Survivors survive because they sing the stories of their healing. My healing song includes my art and my writing. I have goals before me. I may not achieve all my goals, but the importance is doing what I can. Because the effort itself is part of healing from the trauma. My Anishinaabeg ancestors considered sleep to be akin to a state of death. Dreams were a portal to the Unseen World. With the dawn, one's life was renewed. One offered asemaa (tobacco) to Gichi-Manidoo (the Creator) for giving life back. Then, one set out to accomplish their goals for the day. I rely on traditional beliefs as part of my journey as a survivor. Our lives are renewed each day when we awake. We put out our offering and set out to accomplish to goals that we've placed before us. Most importantly, we shouldn't overburden ourselves with goals but keep them short term and accomplishable. Our future is what lies in the day ahead. As such, the shadow of fear is lessened on our journey as survivors. Hope is what guides us, not fear. We need not worry if we leave an unfinished garden. It's what we've planted that give hope and courage to others. © 2021, Robert DesJarlait
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Robert Desjarlait
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