It’s hard not to remember that I have brain cancer.
I will be watching a movie and I will suddenly remember, “Oh yeah, I have brain cancer.” I’ll get a call from a friend and after a few minutes of chit-chat they’ll ask about my health and I’ll remember, “Oh yeah, I have brain cancer.” I take pills throughout the day for side effects and as I take them I think, “I have brain cancer.” In the middle of the night I wake to use the restroom and I’ll think, “Oh yeah, I have brain cancer.”
Today I am housesitting for a friend. I woke up this morning and let her dog out. I opened up windows in the house. I went to the bathroom. I made breakfast for the dog and me (different breakfasts, of course). I took anti-seizure medication on auto-pilot. I began reading a magazine during breakfast. It wasn’t until then that I remembered, “Oh yeah, I have brain cancer.” I think this is the longest I’ve gone without specifically remembering about it.
I realize that I will have brain cancer for the rest of my life. At some point this will not be new, it is just a part of who I am. I suppose all people feel this way when their life changes–they become a parent, the death of a loved one, the passage of a major milestone. As time moves on I will forget that brain cancer is something “new” just as I don’t wake up in the morning and think, “Oh yeah, I own a condo,” or, “Oh yeah, I’m ambidextrous,” or, “Oh yeah, I have blue eyes.”
At some point this will all be no big deal and I will go back to my normal life.