As evidenced by the accompanying photo, it's hard to believe that it has already been a year since Emma was born (she's the one with the 1-year-old crown). It's also hard to believe that this coming August, it will be five years since I was diagnosed with cancer.
In the moment, the long sleepless nights, the high fevers and runny noses, or the endless dirty diapers seem to go on forever. Similarly, the initial stream of diagnostic revelations, the varied side effects of chemotherapy, or the struggle to return to some semblance of health/life normalcy also seemed to be never-ending. But then you turn around, and you're sending them off to college or you're back to work and the recuperative processes seem like a distant memory.
I'm not sure if it is a result of a childhood experience or not, but I do tend to be the kind of person who forgets what happened "yesterday" fairly quickly - compressing the gap between the unpleasant past and "tomorrow's" life on the comeback trail. This is one of the personal perspectives that I bring to my life-with-cancer and getting through each day. I can respect/appreciate that for those whose disease is more debilitating or families of those who have succumbed to the condition - the healing process can be much more protracted and burdensome.
But for me personally, it astounds and encourages me to periodically note (like with an annual birthday or such), how quickly time passes and how almost unnoticeably the stain can fade - allowing a new or modified life to develop and take hold. Admittedly, a certain amount of that evolution is incumbent upon me to initiate and nurture. Improvement involves me finding ways to purposefully push back the past and force forward the future.
So here we are. Emma is now one. Ruby is almost two. I'm nearing five years of life with cancer. And the world is still spinning on its axis. They say that time flies when you're having fun, though it's not always that easy or enjoyable. But time DOES fly when you are at least "having at it."
