Tom,
Of course we cancer survivors are all expected by others to feel and live the cliche that since our diagnosis and survival, we cherish each moment that we have left, always smell the flowers, etc., etc. I have found, for better or worse, that life, although somewhat altered, goes on. As I have gotten better and especially since my swallowing has finally improved and life is more normal, I think less about cancer and dying than I used to and consequently, I live life a little more like I did before cancer. My ex-wife now has the freedom to get pissed off at me again and although well-meaning people often ask in very sincere tones, "how are you feeling?", in general noone has to treat me as a precious entity, perceived to soon be leaving this world, as they did 3 years ago.

I used to say that I knew that I had recovered when I started insulting people in the elevators at the courthouse in the morning once again. I had regained my edge. Hey, I get pissed off in traffic and at surly clerks just like in the old days!

I am, of course, not suggesting that we should for a minute forget that mortality lurks over our shoulders. It lurks for everyone but we are certainly more aware of it than most people and odds are that it might be more immediate for us. I often joked, after my diagnosis, "heck, at least this way I won't outlive my money!"
The awareness of our mortality, I believe is a good thing. Zen moments of awareness are always a good thing. However, I also feel that it is inevitable, natural, and probably good, that for those of us lucky enough to recover, life will return to a kind of normalcy where, although we are aware of our mortality, we still at times get caught up in daily life, along with its highs, lows, frustrations and shining moments, just like everyone else. I certainly don't care to work as hard as I used to and if I play hooky from work for a golf game, I can easily rationalize that hey, I might not have that much time left or might not feel this good in the future, so go for it. I too wonder, " will I ever make it to retirement?" I guess that the only answer to all of this for me is that life goes on, and just like I always have done, I will put myself somewhere between the ant and the grasshopper, and try to enjoy life for the moment, while being prepared for the future in case I have one.

There are no real answers to these questions, and everyone reacts differently to diagnosis and recovery, physically and emotionally. As you can probably tell I am not one who has been known for having the most sunny outlook,(although a lot of my cynicism is just my sense of humor), but I was always very stoic about getting cancer, never asking "why me?", because even though I was not a smoker or drinker, "why not me?" made just as much sense. Fortunately,the only time that I was really down was in the period following radiation when I felt so bad and the future looked so bleak.That is when I discovered this wonderful forum. From my viewpoint today the future does not look half bad....or should I say that the glass is half full?!

I agree with Janet...this is a fun and thought provoking thread.

All the best,
Danny G.

Tom,

No reason for getting depressed... my hair is just starting to come back and I have some gray. Lucky you!

I finished my tx at the end of August and think that at that time and a few months after I was too sick to be depressed. My days of depression have been very few and as I regain my strength and energy level the depression will be even less.

I do agree with some of the statements above re mortality. Having cancer and being a survivor sure puts things in perspective.

Live each day to its fullest and be happy!

Susan

Hello Tom

Your post has attracted very thoughtful replies showing the calibre of people who contribute to this board.

I was surprised to find myself very edgey after treatment. Anti-depressants fixed that but until recently I didn't seem to want to think in terms of retirement or long-term planning. I was only after my 2 1/2 yr all clear that I suddenly felt FREEEEE!

Because I am a single person I have thought through how I would manage a recurrence but I now believe it is unlikely - even though I continue to check my neck for changes every day.

I understand your feelings and thankyou for voicing them. Great to see you contributing so positively to other threads.

Love and light from Helen

Fantastic responses! Its wonderful to get so many perspectives on this one. For the sake of the thread, I'll take issue with the "just cheer up" line of thinking. Depression is not a choice. In much the same way you don't tell an alcoholic to "just sober up", or tell a homeless person to "just buy a house", or tell a cancer patient to "just be healthy", you cannot tell a depressed person to "just cheer up". Too many of the features of depression are not under our direct control.

To be sure, we have choices about our attitude and we can hold our heads up even when our necks hurt. Smiling costs so little. Be strong, be positive, get involved, be in the now, live every day, etc., to be sure. Though great advice, these are NOT at issue here.

To me, this is not a "rah, rah, sis boom bah", pep-rally issue at all. Its more unconscious, it arrives in my world unsolicited, unbidden, unexpected. It pops up even when I'm having a great time - hope/doubt. It is now clear to me that these two travel together. Hoping for a thing is an admission that it might not occur. This is not some huge cartoon ship's-anchor that I am forced to drag about with me, its more like a bird that occasionally crosses my view.

Mortality is sobering at its least. It makes me aware that I have lived 50+ years without any concern at all about how many chances I will get to do a thing. This is no longer true. When my barber shaved off the rest of my falling hair during chemo, he asked what my odds were. I told him, he frowned and said "well, is there any place you really want to go?" Utterly practical. His comment may the genesis of this discussion for me. I am now forced to make better choices with my time - no matter how much of it I have.

Does any of that make any sense? Tom

Tom, I'll begin with apologies to the "whether or not alcohol is evil" folks, because I've enjoyed a couple[2] glasses of wine since getting my grandchildren to bed and settling in to read the OCF posts. I'm not a cancer survivor as of yet-I'm a stroke survivor-totally unexpected at age 63-left me blind in 1 eye and with screwed up thought processes-. And, as with alot of the treatment for cancer- my post stroke treatment meds were and are almost worse than the stroke. But then my husband was diagnosed with SCC and shortly thereafter my daughter in law got called to Active Duty and left me a 19 mo. old and a 14 yr. old to care for. I don't have time to worry about my own mortality now, And it has occured to me that might be be real secret to living. The "woe is me" feelings I had for the year following the stroke are gone. Instead its "do I have enough diapers in the house, and what time does Alex need to be at band practice and what can I fix that John can eat tonite" that are on my mind each day. I have said goodbye to 4 grandparents, my Father, Mother, 3 close Aunts and Uncles,a niece, and several friends over the past few years. Dieing is the result of living. Hope is what you define for yourself for the life you have to live.I believe that we can only HOPE that we use our alloted time wisely. Aren't there some wonderful people in this group?
Amy