9/19/2009: The Fuzz

Standing in the shower I ran my finger across the round white scar next to my left breast. My lips pursed and my forehead crinkled as I desperately searched for the memory that would reveal the reason for this scar. Where did you come from? And why do you look like a shiny pearl now that my golden tan has faded?

At gatherings with my friends we talk about how I have been feeling and my recent health. My response lately has been, “I’m great. I’m on a surgery break.” Other people who don’t know about my journey are quickly brought up to speed and are told that I am a cancer survivor. They listen to stories of my treatment and how strong I was through the process. Words like hero and brave are used to describe me. I find myself listening to the stories as though I am hearing them for the first time -- as though I am having an out of body experience. These stories no longer belong to me ...

I haven’t written in awhile because I wasn’t quite sure how to explain what I have been experiencing. There are huge gaps in the last 21 months that I don’t remember at all, or it takes time to recall the specific events that occurred. I’m not quite sure I really want to remember all of it, to be quite honest.

I know that when people experience trauma in their lives that they subconsciously can block out experiences. I don’t think I necessarily have repressed memory, but there are certainly some moments in my journey that are very fuzzy. Now, the fact that I was on really strong pain pills over the course of nine surgeries can be blamed for some of that “fuzz,” but I honestly believe it is deeper.

Now don’t start worrying, please. I have done some research and am not falling into any of the bad side effects of repressed memory, which can be anything from substance abuse and eating disorders to depression and suicide. I am very happy and am slowly coming to terms with the whirlwind of my journey. Actually, I am taking a vacation to Paris at the end of October. I am so incredibly excited. It is a destination I have wanted to go for a very long time and I deserve it.

I have come to realize that my journey is much bigger than I am. My friends and family retell my stories, because my stories were theirs, too. We all experienced my fight against cancer together. I was never alone ...