How Cancer Stole My Peace of Mind and Taught Me Resilience

Being robbed is just a part of life.

When I was in grammar school, little boys and girls would copy off my tests, stealing my answers to questions asked by the teachers. I got good grades, so I guess the thieves got the right answers. Sometimes when I saw their eyes darting to my paper, I would take my elbow and try to make a shield so that they couldn’t rob me of my knowledge. We’ve all been there.

Much later, when I was 22 and a new resident of NYC, I got pickpocketed. The robber got $600.00, my first paycheck. It was 1985, and I was naive about what could happen in the big city. The huge wad of cash was in my blazer pocket. As I walked out of the check cashing station, I was targeted. Thank god money was the only thing I lost. That and my innocence.

In graduate school, a so-called friend said she’d store my most prized possessions over the summer and then took them for herself, hiding them in her basement. Turns out, she was an obsessive thief, a kleptomaniac.

These losses were minor compared to my major losses associated with breast cancer. Cancer robbed me of my self-assuredness, my self-confidence for over a decade. I was constantly fearful that cancer would return. Even today, 15 years out from my first cancer and 10 years out from my second, the thought that the cancer might return is still in the back of my mind. I guess you could say that I’ve lost my peace of mind.

Cancer is a major thief. The disease can take your hair, your fingernails, your energy, your appetite. The list goes on and on. It’s also a time zapper; what with all the appointments you’ve got to go to, you rarely have a day that’s completely free.

Cancer takes years off your life. And if you’re unlucky, it can take your life.

And don’t get me started on the bills. Cancer can suck the money right out of you, stealing your quality of life.

If you’ve got kids, you can lose your strength to parent them well. It’s hard to parent with cancer. When you’re not in or at the hospital, you’re in bed, sleeping the exhausting procedures off. I had chemo, surgery, and radiation. Those treatments not only robbed me of my sense of overall health, but they also robbed my child of his Mommy.

The little robberies we experience before we have cancer prepare us for the huge robberies that cancer perpetrates. We become resilient; it’s either that or perish.

How dare the little boys and girls steal my correct answers on tests; how dare that pickpocket take my hard-earned cash; how dare my frenemy steal my favorite possessions.

But I guess I am also grateful to these little monsters for preparing me for losses much worse.

Chalk it up to experience.

My birthday is coming up. I’ll be 63 in February. Actually, I’m honored that I made it this far. None of our days are promised. We hope for the best.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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