Shannon Cury
4 min readApr 24, 2021

--

REMISSION

I’m cancer free. I did it. Phew.

I always knew I’d get here. The second I was diagnosed, I knew I was going to beat it. Actually, the second I was diagnosed I was promptly put under anesthesia, cut open, sewn back up, then locked in a closet for 4 hours. I digress though, I’ll save that story for my memoir.

During treatment, I spent countless nights in the hospital looking forward to remission and using it as my silver lining. It’s all going to be worth it. As much as I was living in the present, part of me was always here. The moment when I can breathe a little easier. When I can relax. When I can start to plan for my future. When I can start living my life again.

I always knew it would come, but I didn’t know exactly how it would feel. Joy, excitement, relief, pride, and rejuvenation. The best feelings that you can imagine, I’ve felt them surrounded by my family and friends. It’s been… amazing.

Like most feelings though, they’re complex with a duality that needs to be recognized. I’ve been buried so deep in this experience for what feels like thirteen years that saying goodbye to it is complicated. It’s not an easy good riddance. I can’t close the door and not look back. I don’t want to. Don’t get me wrong, I want the door to stay shut. Lock it and throw away the key. I am going to manifest the shit out of staying healthy for the rest of my life. Please join me in that. But I need to be able to look back and remember it all. Can it be a sliding glass door maybe?

I need to remember getting diagnosed and the unshakable confidence in myself that came with it. I need to remember what it felt like to sit in a closet alone for 4 hours high on anesthesia feeling so empowered that I finally felt like I found my voice. I need to remember what it felt like to be overwhelmed with love and support. I need to remember what it felt like to step away from work and continue to exist. I need to remember that I experienced deep physical and emotional pain and came out better on the other side of it. I definitely need to forget what it feels like to get care packages everyday, though. I can’t stop online shopping.

Now that I’m back to normal — just kidding there is literally no such thing as normal. Also, I don’t want to go back, just forward. Now that I’m no longer actively fighting for my life, just doing it passively like everyone else, there’s a lot of fear. Fear that I’ll get swept away in life and lose sight of myself again, fear that I’ll lose people in the pursuit of living my truth, fear that I’ll go back to numbing myself to pain, fear that I won’t process the wildly traumatic experience I just went through, fear that I’ll forget that my voice still has power even though I don’t have cancer. One of my biggest fears already came true. When I asked my doctor what I could do to help prevent recurrence, she told me I needed to workout. Are there any other options?

Sure, there was fear in the last 6 months, but that was easy to conquer. When faced with life and death, obviously I’m going to choose life in a way so boldly that death doesn’t stand a chance. But the day to day choices we make and conversations we have in order to build the life we want and the future we planned for, that’s the hard part. That’s what’s really scary.

Fear is what you make of it though. Some of those things will happen and that’s okay. People come and go. My confidence will ebb and flow. Gyms will reopen. Life might bury me at some point again. I already have plans for four out of five days next week. I am already exhausted.

When faced with fear, lean into it. Whatever the hell you are running from is probably what you need the most. It might be scary but it will teach you about yourself and free you in a way that running never will. Whatever it is, you’ll come out the other side stronger, I promise. I’m literally running from running and yes, it will literally make me stronger. Ugh.

You wouldn’t get the silver lining without the dark cloud. Recognize both. The people that see you for who you are will stick around and lift you up. Life will get busy but you can stay grounded. Plan for your future but live in the present. Your truth has value, so live it. Your voice has a purpose, so use it.

--

--

Shannon Cury

Breathwork coach, cancer survivor & writer. Rambling about her feelings, her healing & life in between. Head to shannoncury.com/blog for up to date musings.