15 Years of Survivorship or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Change and Just Deal with It

Sunday (Feb 2) marked 15 years since I was diagnosed with leukemia. That’s a decade and a half of what the oncology community calls “cancer survivorship.” It comes with some mixed emotions.

For instance, my leukemia diagnosis would be entering high school.?

That signals two things: I’m getting old, and I guess I’ve learned to deal with a life of transformations—whether I wanted to or not.

Upheaval, thy name is Leukemia?

In 2010, I was 23. I was wrapping up my senior year at Allegheny College for my English degree. I know what you’re thinking:?

“That’s old for a senior, Chris.”?

Yes, it is. I started late because I was a part-time punk rocker for a while. So sue me.?

Following the 2010 holiday break, I returned to my apartment in Meadville. I was yellow. That’s not a euphemism or anything, I was jaundiced and looking very Simpson-esque. My new hue, along with a host of other symptoms, delivered me to the ER. From there, the test results were in: full marks for Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.?

What followed was an involuntary and undeterred refactoring of my entire life.?

I left school. I moved to Pittsburgh for a month. I lived in a 15 x 15 hospital room. I had needles pushed into my spine. I had incredible nurses taking care of me. I had a Greek-born Oncologist brave a blistering Pennsylvania blizzard on Super Bowl Sunday to sit at my bedside and outline my treatment plan, because “we couldn’t waste another day waiting.”?

Once the initial fervor in Pittsburgh died down, I was committed to three and a half years of ongoing chemotherapy. Most of that was completed in Erie, but I wandered into a few more hospital stays and trips to the ‘Burgh.?

Eventually, I re-enrolled and got my degree (even later than originally anticipated), and I learned to live with my survivorship.?

Then, the treatments stopped.?

Let’s Yada, Yada, Yada Some of This

The intervening 15 years came with more change than I knew what to do with. I got married, our son graduated high school, I landed some incredible writing jobs, I made connections, and I found myself firmly planted in Pittsburgh. The city that saved me.

Every new opportunity came with a new normal.?

Thinking back now, some opportunities were great. Some “opportunities” didn’t feel like opportunities at all. At the time, we called them setbacks. But because Robert Frost wrote “The Road Not Taken,” we can pretend that those difficult moments were filled with meaning and purpose. That they made me who I am. Hindsight is 20/20 after all.

Really, though, that’s never been my read on it. We take our moments as they come, and we handle change like anyone else would —?we survive.?

If nothing else, I’d like to think I learned a few things along the way:

1. Give more than you take - I took A LOT while I was sick: blood, time from people who would otherwise not be dealing with my illness, love because I was scared as hell, support because I needed a community to pull me through it. The list goes on. That means I need to give. I need to give honestly and without reservation wherever I can. That’s a personal and professional mission of mine.
2. Roll with the punches – Hooks, jabs, whatever they may be, we’ve got to make the most of what’s given. The times when I’ve been knocked around — and there have been plenty — I always found that I end up exactly where I’m supposed to be. It takes time, but it comes together eventually.
3. Surround yourself with your people – Community and connections are what make a difference. When you find your people, don’t let them go. It’s from that collective that opportunity, support, love, and growth are born.
4. Create cool shit – This is the writer, musician, amateur groundskeeper, DIY enthusiast in me talking, but make what you want to make. The world will catch up.?

So What??

This is a long-winded write-up, but it’s borne out of celebration. A celebration of surviving, and a celebration of transformation.

That said, my 15th year of survivorship will be another year of change.?

I can’t say too much at the moment, but I’m excited for the future. I can say that work will be different, but I’m moving in a new direction with an incredible collective at my side.

I hope you don’t mind if I talk about it here soon.

Thanks for reading.