Normal is a funny word in the life of a cancer patient. After diagnosis, my family found a “new normal.” I guess we are always finding new normal in life, but we don’t notice it until a big adjustment in a short period of time and I know I had never heard the phrase “new normal” before the oncology floor. There, it’s incredibly common among the patients, families and medical staff.
The new normal for a cancer patient isn’t fun. Nausea, altered taste buds, exhaustion, hours spent in clinic and detailed conversations about poop should not be part of anyone’s daily routine. Neither should signing forms to poison my body or get huge needles stuck in my hips. How did I cope with the new normal? I brought as much of the old normal with me, almost like a security blanket. I took classes online to keep me busy. While my friends dreaded the first day of classes, I was on blackboard before 9am to see what I could do. Some people are impressed by how well I kept up with school during treatment, but I didn’t see it as work as much as a hint of normal. I kept in touch with my friends and tried to talk about normal college things. I did my best to keep as many of my plans as possible, even though some had to be adjusted slightly. I didn’t mind losing my hair as much when I was 19 as I had when I was 10. I knew my friends would still love me, and after years of going to camp, I knew it was possible to rock the bald head. Even so, I rarely went around bald, primarily because after having super thick hair all my life my head was freezing without it. I quickly embraced the short showers and lack of shaving. However, when I lost all of my hair right before I was supposed to be a bridesmaid in my cousin’s wedding, I knew I wanted a wig. I know I could have been in the wedding with no hair, but it was nice to have a normal day, with nobody staring or asking me questions when they should have been focused on my cousin and her husband anyway. I was able to get my hair done with the rest of the bridesmaids and the best part? At the end of the night, I took off my wig without messing up the style and was able to wear it to brunch the next morning! Other than the wedding, I only wore my wig for a fundraising gala and some job interviews (let’s focus on my skills not my hair) but those were events where I desperately wanted normalcy. No, hair wasn’t necessary, but it was a part of normal. Plus, I got to experiment with being a redhead without dying my hair! (I loved it, in case you’re wondering). My parents worked hard to maintain as much of our old normal as possible for my siblings and themselves. Both of my siblings play multiple sports and are involved in other extracurriculars, but they rarely had to give up these activities which was a relief for me. I tried to use some of my extra time home to go to their games and activities. It was hard enough for me to know my illness was affecting my life, but it was also incredibly difficult knowing how much my illness was affecting everyone else’s normal as well. Even though I obviously didn’t choose to be sick, I hate being an inconvenience. Once you find a new normal, I don’t think there’s any way to go back. Sure, most things can return to the way they were but the new memories won’t go away. I don’t think I will ever not worry about relapse somewhere in the back of my head, and I know I won’t forget all of the lessons I learned during treatment. When did you need to find a new normal in your life?
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AuthorI’m Karen. I was originally diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL) in August 2004 when I was 10 years old. When I was working on my college and scholarship application essays two years ago, I wrote about my journey. Although it was a rough few years, it became such an influential part of my life that I can’t, and wouldn’t want to, imagine my life without having had cancer. I called it the worst best thing that ever happened to me. Archives
April 2022
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