And I don't need a witness
To know that I survived
I'm not looking for forgiveness
Yeah, I just need light
I need light in the dark
As I search for the resolution
I need light in the dark
As I search for the resolution- Jacks Mannequin: Resolution
So I'm done with boards. I'm done done done doneeeee. And it feels like nothing. and everything. but mostly nothing. but anyway, I am so glad it's behind me and I can spend a week with some great friends trying not to think about medicine for a little while and just enjoy the sunshine.
I just wanted to say thank you to Bristol. Thank you thank you thank youuu. I had the most amazingly wonderful time while I was home. And it really did feel like home, and not just some place I was stopping through for a couple of days. It really did feel like the place where I came from and the place where I belong, even if only for a short while. The support from family and friends meant more to me than I can express in words. Much more. It made studying actually enjoyable, well, as enjoyable as it could possibly be. And it made me smile much more than I would've just holed up in my study closet in Memphis. That is for sure. And that makes me happy. So, again, thank you Bristol, for everything.
I've been saying "thank you" a whole lot recently. And I hope that's not too mushy, or too "feel good" or too whatever. Honestly, I've been saying thank you for a whole year. And in case you were wondering, yes, it has been almost a whole year. Two weeks from my one-year-out-mark. I never thought I'd be here, let alone so well adjusted and happy and being so dang cheesy.
I've had so many different strategies for trying to deal with it all. At first, I really thought I could just push it way down and never think of it again. And I tried that for a while, and it was fun and I did a lot of "trying to be normal." But then I did a lot of thinking about it, and comparing everything to it. The pendulum was swinging the other way and I was "trying to put everything in perspective." And, well, that was just as unfulfilling and awful and impossible.
But then I realized, not on my own mind you, but realized just the same, that it's okay to not be normal AND to not compare everything that I do to having cancer or to not having cancer. I can just be a "regular" person who went through this hell and is now living. Just living, like anyone else. Just experiencing everything and smiling and hurting just like anyone else. And stressing about boards and bickering with my sister (lovingly) and dishing about a date.
I realized it's been a year. And so much has happened in a year. And NONE of it has anything to do with having cancer. And that feels damn good. More than good. I finished my second year of medical school on a high note and took the first step of my medical boards. I lost ten pounds. I had the most wonderful times going out (and staying in) with friends. I worked on my relationship with my parents. I learned how to love those crazy puppies again. I let go of all the bitterness. I forgave. I thanked. I loved.
At the risk of sounding super lame (which probably isn't that much of a stretch) I went to see Andrew McMahon in concert in Nashville on Wednesday night, alone, because I am that cool. (Also he played me Konstantine and I can die happy now.) But really, it made me realize how far I'd come and how much I've changed. I am more brave now. I take more chances. I don't let anyone, or anything, get in the way of my life. I would've never been able to do that in the past... but here I am, and nothing scares me anymore. (Well almost nothing, that plane to Florida was sooooo terrifyingly bumpy, so there is that.)
So here's the point: it has been (almost) a year. And it has been long enough that I look like a normal, cancer-free 24 year-old-girl. I have short precious normal girly hair. Life is happening all around me. And I am living, just like anyone else. Except not just like anyone else. This is my life. I survived and I am thankful. And more than that, I am brave.
See y'all on the other side of one-year.
Liv
No comments:
Post a Comment