As much as you wish having breast cancer doesn't take away your identity, it does, for a little while at least. I don't ever want it to define who I am and I don't want to be known as a survivor. Uh, that makes me gag. It happened, it sucked, hopefully this shit will be over soon, let's move on.
It took over a month for me to transition from a wheelchair, to a walker and eventually to crutches. During that time, I received many visits from friends, family, nurses, and ex-boyfriends and I built a damn good dvd collection. My sister would run out to Lucky's 50% off sale and buy me some desirable items. I got a pretty sweet wand that would magically make her do all sorts of things. By the time it was my birthday, I was ready to leave the house, looking somewhat presentable. Well, if you consider presentable wearing my coke bottle glasses and jeans that are falling off because they are too big (when has that ever happened??). I was ready for a beer people! I was able to "move" back into my bedroom because I could walk upstairs and I was feeling good! Not really, but it was a good effort.
I went out for a beer with my sister. I was also at the point where I was completely comfortable with dropping the "C" bomb. If somebody asked why I was walking with crutches, they got an answer: I have cancer. At first I felt bad about making people feel uncomfortable, but then I decided I was way more uncomfortable than them, so I'm sure they could handle it.
While we were out drinking, which for me turned out to be about 3 sips and I lasted maybe an hour. Happy Birthday. We met my sister's now fiance and his friend. They innocently asked what happened, referring to my crutches. Boy were they in for a surprise. My standard answer, "Oh, I have breast cancer. It spread to my bones and completely deteriorated my hip." Awkward moment of silence to ensue. I didn't realize it then but it was empowering to have a control over people's emotions after the blow that I had experienced where I had no control over my own feelings. Making people stop in their tracks was cool, but I wouldn't say it was a smooth ice breaker.
For about a year, maybe longer, after I was diagnosed, I would somehow fit 'breast cancer' into all of my conversations. It was pretty much the only thing going on in my life, consuming, what else was I supposed to talk about? I even went out on a date 3 months after diagnoses. Luckily, the kid I went out with was recovering from almost becoming paralyzed after drunkenly, playfully attacking his friend in a closet. His luck was worse than mine. We never went out again.
I almost felt and still do at times (after I was walking again), feel like an inadequate person with cancer (cancer survivor if you must), since I show no real physical signs of being sick and I still have both my breasts. What a tease!
