Thankful On a Bad Day

As the Schuyler sisters said in Hamilton.

“Look around, look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now.”

I am lucky to be alive. I am grateful for the level of care I’ve received. More than once, I should have died and thanks to my doctors, family, and my own bulldog attitude I didn’t. My statistics were and are grim, but here I am.

I still have bad days

Being thankful for being alive does not exempt me from having a bad day. Being grateful does not mean I no longer get angry, stressed, frustrated, and sad about a great number of things. Having experienced so many big things, people have this expectation that I no longer sweat the small things. Oh, how wrong they are.

High standards for people with cancer

Complaining about a bad day at work makes me seem ungrateful for being able to work, for still having a job to return to, for having a job that lets me still receive my monthly cancer treatments. If I whine about how I can’t wait for my hair to grow longer, I’m not being sensitive to those who lose all of their hair on chemotherapy. Being angry that so much of my ability to be intimate with my husband was lost shouldn’t matter because I’m still alive to be with him and that should be enough. The expectation that cancer patients have seen the worst so nothing else should seem bad is far too high of a standard to live by.

The pressure to feel grateful all the time

It becomes so overwhelming trying to be happy and grateful and thankful all of the time. I feel guilty for complaining about anything these days. Don’t fuss about the traffic, the laundry, the long drive to my appointments, or the pants that no longer fit, you’re alive and that’s all that matters.

A lack of support from those around me after cancer

When I decided to share my story and experiences online, I knew I would be opening the door for support AND criticism. I just didn’t expect the criticism to come from my family, friends, and coworkers. Pre-cancer Brittney could fuss about the trivial things and everyone would moan with me. Now, I get the strangest looks and comments anytime I’m the least bit grumpy.

Cancer doesn't erase the bad days

Cancer does not erase life. It certainly adds more steps and more obstacles, but it doesn’t erase bad hair days, boring meetings, and the dirty dishes in the sink. It doesn’t make the customer phone calls any nicer, or the office gossip any less annoying. I didn’t get smacked with cancer and suddenly not care that my husband left his dirty towel on the floor instead of in the laundry hamper. My days are a little different, but some things will never change.

The little things still matter

I don’t want to ever come across as ungrateful for the luck I have or not seem thankful to everyone that has helped me, but I even more do not want people to assume the little things don’t matter to me anymore.

I have a life separate from bladder cancer

If I could make those without cancer understand one thing about the experience it would be this. Cancer may alter the human experience, but it does not stop the human part. There is still a human being beyond the cancer part. There is still a Brittney that is separate from bladder cancer. I can be so incredibly humbled by the love and support of my family and still get annoyed with my mom telling me to drink more water. I can still complain about a blemish on my nose while being proud of the scar from my radical cystectomy. I know I’m lucky to be alive right now, as my mom says to me so often “it's a bad day, not a bad life”. But we are still allowed to have bad days whether we have cancer or not.