This year's Relay was very emotional for me which surprised me. The first year was emotional and I expected that. I wasn't even in remission yet and I remember feeling doubtful that I even belonged among the other survivors. When I put my hand print on the banner with other survivors, I didn't really even have a time to write down as a survivor in remission, so I just counted back to my diagnosis. I remember feeling unsure of my place among the courageous survivors that I sat amongst on the field for the opening ceremony. Many of them had been through a much harder journey than I had. They'd faced chemo. Some of them had needed stem cell transplants and other procedures far more serious than what I went through.
But when I joined them for the survivor lap, I felt something that I didn't expect. I felt empowered. Walking seems like such a small thing, but it was and is one thing I could control. I was able to band together with other survivors and show cancer that it can't knock me off my feet. The biggest thing that cancer took me from is my health and being able to walk a lap felt a little like thumbing my nose at cancer. Although I am in remission, I am not as healthy as I was pre-cancer. Losing my thyroid has turned a lifelong struggle with my weight into what sometime seems an impossible battle. The pounds that 2 years of hypothyroidism packed on have been such a difficult battle for me to take off. Nevertheless, slowly I am winning that battle.
The fact that I am down almost 65 pounds since my last Relay made this year's walk more poignant for me. It was a bigger "screw you" to cancer. Not only am I still standing and still alive but I'm taking off the weight that cancer helped me put on. It was much easier for me to walk that survivor lap and 2 laps that followed without even getting tired. Progress! Physically this Relay was the easiest one for me.
It was very emotionally challenging for me though. It was the first time I cried during the survivor lap. Seeing other people's tears always brings me to tears of my own. Seeing the luminaria that Abby and I decorated for my Dad choked me up. I wish that my Dad was a survivor too. I wish he could walk that lap with me. I hate that I'm here and he's not. This year was less about my battle and more about carrying on the battle in his memory. It's safe to say that my Dad wouldn't really have done Relay with me. That wasn't his sort of thing. He never came when I was walking just for myself. But last year and this year he was there....I carried him in my heart.
I am about to reach 5 years of being in remission on Wednesday July 13th. 5 years for a cancer patient is a huge milestone because the risk of recurrence becomes so much lower. I realize that with thyroid cancer, recurrence at any time of my life is possible. I know that the radiation therapy I had increases my risk of other cancers. But those risks are moving farther and farther to the back of my mind.
So as I reflect on the 5th year of my remission from Stage III papillary/follicular thyroid cancer, I am feeling thankful, blessed and hopeful. I am thankful for my husband and children who have sustained me through this fight with love, patience and understanding. They laughed along with me when I was so hypothyroid that all I could do was stare at my hand all day. The sympathized with me through many a Low Iodine Diet. I am thankful for my friends and family who have been there to support me. Those who have joined my Relay team and cheered me on each year as I do that survivor lap. Those who have been understanding when hypothyroidism drained me of energy to hang out or when I was filled with anxiety as I went through my testing. I feel blessed that I continue to win my fight against cancer. I feel blessed that I have a wonderful competent doctor who cares for me and keeps me healthy. I am blessed to have a good hospital with caring medical staff to give me a smile or a chuckle during testing or to add yet another bill to my monthly payment plan. I am hopeful that someday I will no longer worry about my cancer. I feel hopeful that someday I will no longer touch the jagged scar on my neck as I worry about why I'm not feeling alright. I feel hopeful that some day there will be a cure for cancer.
