Saturday April 18

I had a dream a few nights ago, a vivid one in which my hair was falling out again. Like it did when I was on chemo.  I don't remember if cancer was specifically the reason my hair was falling out, but frankly, I'm not sure what else it could be. 

I still think about cancer. Not a day goes by when it doesn't cross my mind again in some form or another. I don't really worry too much about it coming back, but the dream tells me one thing.... the thought is somewhere in the back of my mind. It's as if being a cancer survivor has come to define me. I guess that's not surprising since its the only noteworthy thing I've done in my whole life. 

It stares me in the face every single day.... the lump of skin where my left testicle used to be.... the scar on the right side of my chest.... the beanie that was bought for me when my hair stared to fall out... the PET scan report that still sits on my desk... the Lance Armstrong braclet I wear.... the braclets other people wear... the oncologist's card in my wallet... the people that I've impressed with my story.... it's everywhere and it's not going away.