Quite often you hear or read about people who consider a certain event in their lives to be the defining moment or the point at which their lives made a 360 degree turn. I suppose that’s what a friend alluded at the other day when asking if I felt that cancer had made me stronger.
My initial reaction was – What kind of a question is that?
My answer was vapid, if not downright stupid – as if I hadn’t spent a moment thinking about my life with cancer. My life post-cancer for the second time, at that!
In 2004 when I was diagnosed with a slow-growing type of breast cancer, I was still getting over the death of my mother a mere 4 months earlier. I immediatley went into reactive mode and became very efficient in dealing with the physical situation – I just wanted the whole thing to be over and done with as soon as possible. Losing a breast wasn’t traumatic at 50+ and having a ‘falsy’ was something I thought about mostly when my bra fell to the floor with an audible thump. Life went on as before, I had just dealt with one more curve ball – now I had things to do, people to see and places to go!
Most significantly though – I kept on smoking even though you might say I had ‘the writing on my chest’.
Three years later I had finally worked through all reasons for NOT quitting – the last one being that I didn’t want to gain weight and get the same ridiculous midriff as several female relatives…. The decision to quit smoking was mine and mine alone – not even Richard was in on it. No guilt trips, no promises – this was Trudie against the fags and I was doing it of my own accord! Not even the doctor had urged me – he just said ‘Yea sure I’ll give you the prescription, but without a sermon. You’re welcome to try.’
Lo and behold – the tiny little blue pills did the trick! Somehow they managed to short-cicuit my brain so effectively that a 40-year habit lost its firm grip on me. Forget self-control or willpower – I needed a chemically induced aversion to nicotine before I could quit! I STILL smoked a few times even after the taste was enough to gag me…. Almost as if I needed to reassure myself that the taste still was worse than sucking on guano.
I have already written about what happened during the early parts of the winter and what followed. I’ve also written about the bronchoscopy, the other examinations and the operation.
In what way(s) – if any – has this changed me as a person? I don’t know if it’s too early to document any major and lasting changes, or indeed if that is something within the realm of possibilities – at my age.
Admittedly, quitting smoking was a major change, but still not a direct result of my cancer.
I don’t get my knickers in a knot over small stuff to the same extent as I used to. There again – has advancing age made me more mellow or should that be attributed to my brush with death?
Do I enjoy life differently? Don’t think so – but I do have a lot more TIME to enjoy it! This is the first time in my life that I’ve been off work or school a full 5 months – for any reason. I do have time to smell the proverbial flowers, to stop in wonder over little things.
Has my thinking undergone any significant changes? No, I don’t think so – or maybe it’s too early to tell.
Am I a different person? Negative to that one as well – at least from where I stand. Besides, I think people surrounding me could better answer that question truthfully…
So, does this make me an incorrigible idiot or is all the hoopla about defining moments just that – a lot of bovine fecal matter?
