lucky

When I started writing about cancer, it was a way to document what I was going through; to purge it from my system, but to not really share myself or my experience.


I realize now how selfish that was. 


Recently, I visited the periodontist to have my first of five gum grafts (thanks, radiation). While I was getting "numbed up", the dental assistant started chatting about oral cancer. All dental professionals love to chat about my freakish case. ALL. She mentioned that they work with eleven other patients who have had oral cancer, but I was only one of two under 35.  The other girl, she said, was much worse than I was. Her cancer had progressed to Stage Three and she had lost most of her tongue. She couldn't speak or eat anything solid. She had undergone radiation and chemotherapy, in addition to her surgery to remove the cancer and lymph nodes.


And for the first time, I felt lucky.


I could have so easily been that girl. If my grandmother hadn't had it, if my mom hadn't pressured me to visit a specialist, if I hadn't been obsessive about dental health...I could have been that girl. Forced silent by cancer.


And then I felt guilty.


I felt horrible for every time I whined about my scar and gum grafting. For every time I complained about my speech. For my screams through the scar removal, for voicing my fears about my follow up and the cancer returning. And most of all, for my own silence.


In the scope of my world, very few people know about my experience with cancer: my family, a few close friends and my co-workers and even letting those people know was hard for me. I never wanted to be labelled the as the "cancer girl". I wanted to push it away and be done with it. But what if by saying something, I could have stopped this from happening to this woman? What if she had heard about oral cancer? Maybe she could have been "lucky" too.


After realizing all of this, I'm not sure where to go with it. But I feel like this is a good start.