Since my diagnosis mornings have become especially tough. This has nothing to do with the fact that I’ve never been a morning person (at least not Monday-Friday). Rather, when I wake up the sun is shining, my cat is meowing and the day is bringing new opportunities. Everything is just as I left it the day before and there is a calm in the air. After a few minutes, however, the thought comes back to me – I have cancer. And not just any cancer but inflammatory breast cancer, which is rare and aggressive. I can never do things the easy way.
The first and second weeks after my diagnosis I woke up in the mornings wishing more than anything that I was dreaming about all of those tests and doctors visits. I’d have to turn to my mother who sadly convinced me I wasn’t dreaming – I am living this nightmare. Today, nearly a month later, I still wake up in the morning thinking all is right in the world until a little voice whispers to me that I have cancer. I still have to repeat that sentence several times in my head before it clicks. Then I quickly remember the needles, medicines and sad looks everyone has been giving me.
Although starting the day out knowing I have cancer isn’t ideal, I remind myself to make each day count. I would grimace at that cliché when someone previously said it to me, but now I truly understand its meaning. Sadly, my diagnosis is what made me “get it.” So I have to do just that – be kind to people (even those who drive me crazy – you know who you are), smile more, complain less and be grateful that I have another day. And if the day wasn’t the best I can always pull out that other cliché – it’s nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix.