A Silver Elephant

“It’s a shallow life that doesn’t give a person a few scars.” – Garrison Keillor

I’ve been thinking about this day for a long time. Five years in fact. Five years ago today, I had my first surgery for breast cancer. I was scared, as much for my family as myself. Jacob was just fourteen. He hadn’t taken my diagnosis well. Merv looked like a deer in the headlights. Cath and Nan were working hard to hide their devastation but had no success in fooling me.

I remember getting out of bed that morning, having hardly slept, filled with anxiety. I was required to be at the hospital early and the sun was just rising in the sky. While dressing I spoke quietly to my dad and asked him to watch over Jacob and my sisters. When I stepped into the foyer, I was startled to see that the stairs were covered with rainbows, an interaction between the rising sun and the crystal chandelier. My dad has sent me many rainbows over the years since he passed away. I was especially grateful for the rainbows that morning.

It was a long day at the hospital. But at the end of it I was optimistic. I came home, spent a couple of days reading and watching TV and went back to work. The surgeon was confident the cancer hadn’t spread to my nodes and a few rounds of radiation would be all that came next. Unfortunately, he was wrong. My pathology samples went missing after surgery and it was four weeks before I got the news. The cancer had reached my lymph nodes. I would require more surgery to be sure it hadn’t spread beyond the five nodes which had been taken and to assure clearance of the margins around the tumor. Surgery would be followed by four months of chemo and a month of daily radiation.

The day I received that news was followed by the longest, darkest night of my life. The biggest part of my angst was directed toward the impact of my illness on Jacob. If I didn’t make it, I figured, Merv would be single for about two weeks (and that was okay with me) but Jacob would be motherless all of his life and I could hardly bear to think of it. I also didn’t know how I was going to get through so much treatment. I didn’t want the pain. Didn’t want to feel sick. Didn’t want the fatigue. Didn’t want to be bald. I couldn’t sleep. Neither could Merv. Sometime in the night when we both thought the other was asleep, we figured out that we were in fact both awake. I told Merv how scared I was. He held me tight and let me cry.

Eventually the sun rose and so did I. Life went on. There was still work to be done. My company was in the middle of a union organizing campaign. Jacob still needed to be taken to school. Dinner still had to find its way to the table that night. I thought a lot about how I would find the resources to get through the next months. It all seemed like so much. So, I told myself that getting through cancer treatment is like eating an elephant. It is possible to eat an elephant. You just have to eat it one bite at a time. With my limited artistic skills, I drew an elephant in pencil on a sheet of paper and put it on my desk. In the months that followed, I erased a little bit of that elephant after every treatment. On July 21, 2006 it had vanished. I had eaten the elephant.

My second surgery in January 2006, showed no more evidence of cancer. So November 9, 2005, the day of my first surgery, had indeed been the day I became cancer free. The five year mark in cancer speak has some significance. I don’t know the reason why but when survival statistics are quoted, they are usually for the five year survival rate. I remember something else about that November morning. I promised myself that if I made it, I would honour my victory with a celebration on November 9, 2010.

Tonight Merv and I will share dinner with our family. Unfortunately Jacob won’t be able to join us but we will dine with Cath and Stan, Nan, Marg and Bob and Geraldine and Brian. Gail is away at school and Frank teaches on Tuesday nights so they too will be missing from the dinner table. We’re going to Cath’s. I will bring the champagne I’ve been saving. It will be a quiet evening spent just the way I wanted – with the people I love.

I did decide to mark this milestone for myself with a little gift. I bought a silver Pandora bracelet. Hanging from its center is a shiny silver elephant.