Today’s National Cancer Survivor’s Day — but it has been pretty much a normal day for me.
You see, once you’ve had the disease, everyday is cancer survivor’s day.
I was diagnosed with malignant melanoma 13 years ago. But I survived. Sure, it changed me but I’m still here. And I have the scars to prove it — inside and out.
My survival is a fact that has caused me to struggle for a long, long time.
You see, three doctors missed my melanoma. And if you know anything about melanomas, you don’t want that to happen. It’s an aggressive, nasty form form of skin cancer. It kills. And it kills quickly.
Yet, it didn’t kill me. So I wonder why I’m still here. I’m thankful, don’t get me wrong. But I still wonder: Why?
I didn’t attend any events today. Nor did I receive any gifts. A card. Flowers. Or anything else. I didn’t view myself or today as being particularly special. But I did think about my friends who’ve died from cancer. And I felt a tinge of survival guilt. I do often. Really.
Then I went ahead and did what I usually do: I lived. I guess another sunrise was enough of a gift.
So yeah, I’m a cancer survivor. But I like to think I’m more than just that. Because I want to do more than just survive. I want to thrive. To truly live. And to spread that message to others.
My pesky malfunctioning cells taught me to appreciate the gift of every moment. And to appreciate Psalm 90:12 even more:
So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.
Amen.