Still Me By Rashmi

There is one word I’ve never quite been comfortable with.

Survivor.

Especially when it’s used to describe me.

Now, before you disagree with me, let me say this.

If that word gives someone else strength, I completely respect that.

It simply isn’t the word that feels right for me.

Here’s why.

Every year, more people die from heart disease than from cancer.

We all lived through COVID.

Many of us had it.

Some became critically ill.

Some lost people they loved to it.

I personally knew several people who sadly didn’t make it.

Yet I’ve never heard anyone introduce themselves by saying,

“I’m a COVID survivor.”

Nor have I met people who say,

“I’m a heart disease survivor.”

Or,

“I’m an appendix survivor.”

Or,

“I’m a pneumonia survivor.”

We simply say,

“I had it.”

“I was treated.”

“I recovered.”

Then, as best we can, we get on with living.

For some reason, cancer feels different.

Perhaps it’s because of the fear that surrounds it.

Perhaps it’s because historically it carried such a heavy shadow.

Perhaps it’s because hearing the words, “You have cancer,” changes something inside all of us.

I understand that.

I truly do.

But for me…

I’m not a survivor.

I’m someone who has had cancer.

Twice.

I did what I needed to do.

I had the surgeries

Chemotherapy.

Radiation.

I laughed when I could.

I cried when I needed to.

I accepted help.

I accepted love.

And then…

I carried on living.

Could cancer return?

Of course it could.

So could countless other illnesses.

None of us knows what tomorrow holds.

I’ve learnt that worrying about tomorrow doesn’t change tomorrow.

It only steals today.

So, I choose not to think of myself as a survivor.

I choose to think of myself as…

Just myself.

I am Just Me