I remember the first day that I walked into the Cancer Center with my friend, Mary. I did not want to go. I procrastinated getting ready, I dragged my feet to the car, and I drove very slowly there. Finally, I stood looking at the building realizing that simply by walking through those doors, I was a cancer patient. As foolish as it sounds, I did not want to go inside. Because I am sensible and responsible, I gave myself a shake, and I walked into that building to face what needed to be faced.
Treatment ended a month ago. I have my first post treatment appointment with the oncologist on Friday. After a month away from the Cancer Center, I dread going back. As foolish as it sounds, I realize that when I walk through those doors, I am, again, a cancer patient.