Dry erase board John spotted (and captured) at a doc visit
Losing track of the hurt of cancer is kind of like forgetting how painful childbirth is — yes, it’s kind of a blur, even though I remember clearly barking at my husband while in labor with my first child, “Why would anyone do this twice?” Then I did it again, 2 years and 5 months later.
I know, if you are fighting cancer at this very moment, you might think I’m crazy, suggesting you will block out of your mind how horrible it can be. But I did, and I know this because yesterday, I sat in a dentist chair (after three months of complete and utter avoidance), and while getting my first-ever crown, I cried.
A crown. Not surgery to remove a deadly tumor, or poisonous chemo or skin-scorching radiation. I cried because of the pain caused by the needle used to numb my mouth. Five years after the horrors of cancer, and a shot in the mouth brings me to tears. Clearly, I’ve forgotten.
See, life does get better.
Then you cry.
