/sərˈvīvər/ noun Survivor: A person who survives, especially a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died.
I'm a father, a son, a husband, a brother, a brother-in-law, an uncle, a nephew, a cousin, a friend, a colleague, and a few others - which may not be fit for this forum. I never really thought about it this way, and perhaps my ridiculously rosy reality didn't see any other outcome but a successful one, but I guess technically I am now classified as a cancer survivor. In fact, unlike others who do attain a cure (ie: remission after 5+ years), my condition has no cure. So though I will eventually relapse, I have survived the diagnosis and treatment.
Admittedly, the sound of survivor-hood does ring odd when it hits my ears. Did I never take it seriously enough to think that my result could be otherwise? Is this yet another classification that I never anticipated (cancer or not), so that the reality of it is taking awhile to sink in? Am I distracted by the sheer magnitude of the word itself (survivor) such that it feels bigger than what I went through? Like so many questions that have posed within these "pages," I'm not sure I have the answer. My disconnect is not necessarily fueled by denial of the whole experience, but rather my perspective on the result versus the trials and tribulations that so many others "survive" throughout their lives on a daily or ongoing basis. I share that I don't feel like a survivor, yet clearly the world would tend to disagree.
So here I stand: grateful to all for having attained this new title, proud of this accomplishment (which sounds even more strange than being a survivor), and just glad that lo these 14 months later I'm living on the right side of the equation/statistics.
