After my cancer diagnosis and having a testicle removed I was not always daydreaming

about writing, reading, watching soccer or anything remotely intellectually stimulating. Writing 

makes me remember things from my early life like  how the simple light and color create a

special language for all to experience in the form of a rainbow. This may seem like a random

thought, but when  I write I do not analyze, but only give  share refreshing words. Some words

have no particular meaning to  me but are there to make me aware of the unique existence

in the world. 

It hardly bears repeating how difficult writing can be some days. I drift in and out with

my mind at times forgetting how famished my brain is. Then I realize hey,  “I am a survivor

keep my head up.” Writing about my cancer diagnosis treatment and post recovery life is my

own personal way of saying,  “I got through this. So can others. But they need to know they are

not alone and their feelings are justified.”

Cancer survival,  beating anything or achieving a life goal is not easy for anyone at any

age. The fact of the manner is as survivors we are in a special group. We know what we went

through, we know how hard it was, but we also feel like we’re judged in a way. It’s always on

your conscious and you don’t know what to say. I don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just

sometimes we’re held at a different standard. People think, “Oh wow, you really

went through so much and you really did this and that.” The fact of the matter is the person

that goes through cancer knows in their heart and their memory, and it’s hard for others, even

sometimes family members to understand that feeling. In recent months, I had several people

 contact me from my latest blog and said oh that was inspiring. One wrote that their son is

currently battling testicular cancer. My heart dropped just knowing my words were a little

comfort offering a little hope. Because we all need hope, a trust in believing in  promises

rather than depending solely on humanity. 

What does it really mean when someone says that is hard? In achieving a goal, finishing

a huge project, or something like cancer survival. A few years back someone said to me, “Oh

what you went through must have been hard.” I said it is hard not knowing what the future holds.

Having faith in yourself is the easy part. Believe me the hard part is when you reveal your

feelings to someone else and hope they understand.

It is not often you are the answer to that other person’s prayers. You may never realize

you are and then when a survivor welcomes you in you feel that unbelievable feeling. I believe

when I was going through my testicular cancer it was hope and many prayers that got me

 through. I refused to let myself become just a memory. I wondered how many people had

walked down that path pretending not to break down. Hours of lost sleep and smiles that

dissolved before my eyes. I felt that I would before crack like a fresh county egg before

reaching the next corner.

As it stands, I could not be chased into the next room. I am thinking about my second

marathon after my cancer surgery. I passed a young guy in his thirties in a low rider wheelchair,

a special racing bike. He gave me a thumbs up. I was so blown away from that moment I turned

 to him and said, “Keep the faith.” I’ll never forget that guy. Here I was running, sweating and

feeling like I was the only one with troubles. Lo and behold, this guy had a physical disability

that kept him from running, and he was encouraging me, a guy with perfect legs. 

Talk about a humbling life moment. Ask yourself a  question every day, how did I survive

cancer and life after. It’s a journey, not a destination. There will be improvement it just takes

time.

At nineteen I was angry, and felt isolated, that cancer had taken away from me. 

One fine day months after my diagnosis and surgery at a 9AM Sunday Catholic Mass

I told myself that I was not going to push away those who cared about me. Most importantly,

I was unhappy, and extremely disappointed, afraid of living life with just one testicle. I did not

know how to feel like I should just say “screw it” and throw my life away.

I think choosing to go to live life depends on many factors, not just the living part but

the specifically living for better or worse. For me, though, survival was a huge plus. Being a

young and excited runner, I felt I could teach something to people to help them come back

to a better existence. Fourteen months prior to passing the young guy on his low-rider

wheelchair, I  was in  my hospital room. I remember it like it was just yesterday. I was near

a garden in the south courtyard. I would sneak out in the morning to the sweet smells of jasmine.

I always knew my life’s truth was somewhere not in that sweetness of a flower garden but rather

on the hard concrete. Life doesn’t get back to “normal” after cancer. For me it was a new chapter

in the novel of my life.

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inspiring,  and thought-provoking musings of health life and its wonders.

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