Last week was the first time I’d left the state. Last night was the first time I’d left my babies to go somewhere on a plane. In fact, it was my first time on a plane, too. It will be the first time I will see the ocean. And the first time the hubs and I have gotten away for a little couple time. It will be the first time I see my aunt and uncle. So many firsts are going to happen this year. As a 34 year old. So many firsts in my life, post-cancer. As a survivor.
Sometimes it’s exciting, to see things anew through my post-cancer lens… Like the ocean. I have always connected with the ocean. Now I have a feeling I will be in awe like a child upon seeing it.
Sometimes it’s sweet. Like it will feel to hug my aunt and uncle who have been supporting me from afar — 2 cards. Every week.
Sometimes it feels uncomfortable. Like the feeling I had missing the boys the minute I hugged them goodbye. Because we were all in the fight of my life over the last year. They helped save my life. And letting go was harder than it has ever been.
Sometimes it’s going to be special. My first trip — which the hubs set up and gifted me for morher’s day for 2+ weeks post rads so I’d be in the clear for some sun exposure — something that feels so much like what normal people do.
Sometimes it will be funny. Like hoping I could go through one of those X-ray machines so they could see my foobs. And wondering things like, will my port or my foob magnets set off the security bells?
But mostly, it’s just all sort of new. Fresh off cancer. Just happy to be here. Giddy to sit and write and drink coffee and just be so happy to be alive and through treatment. New.
All the firsts. Even the scary ones. Feel like a gift. Some of them, for the first time.
