Rechelle Ramsay

What to do when emotions surface after healing

October once meant turkeys and laughter with friends and family but is now a constant reminder of the challenges our family faced 5 years ago. I remember it in such vivid detail that it is like I am reliving it all over again.

It was a time when I didn’t know if I would live to see my boys celebrate their birthdays again or be there cheering as they walked across the stage at their graduation. The memories of isolation, uncertainty, and despair creep up, and it feels like I am right back in that hospital bed.

While we all have unique experiences with cancer, I want to share a few tips that help me work through these moments when they come to the light all too often.

1. I stop what I am doing and allow myself to be in the moment with those feelings. I don’t try to ignore or suppress them but rather feel all of them completely. The good and the bad. Sometimes, I even set myself a time limit: 15 or 20 minutes of reminiscence on the experience. Then, I talk to someone I trust.
2. For me, it’s my husband. I unload how I’m feeling, my worries, and the happy moments. I can get what I’m feeling off my chest and out in the open, so he knows I am having a moment of reflection and need some support. Sometimes, I even write it in a journal because I need an outlet for these thoughts.
3. Once I have done that, I like to think about the growth and positive changes that happened because of my experience. It is hard at the beginning, but after a while, it gets easier. I think about the friendships I have made, the experiences I've had, and how they have shaped who I am today.
4. I let it go. I free myself from that memory, those emotions, and that place because I made it to the other side. I am here now.

I am grateful I had cancer. And I get it: Cancer and grateful in the same sentence? But honestly, I believe my diagnosis has shaped me for the better.

Because of cancer, I can be completely present with my kids and appreciate the little moments because I remember what it was like not to have them.

Because of cancer, I live less materialistically because I know at the end of the day, it is the experiences I reflect on in that hospital bed, not that designer jacket in the closet.

Because of cancer, I live every moment to the fullest and embrace the good and the bad in every situation because I know what a bad day feels like, and I will not let the superficial grievances of everyday life bring me down.

And so, every October, as the leaves change, I am reminded not just of what I have overcome but of the strength I carry with me each day, knowing that no matter what new hurtle comes before me, I am still here: still standing, still grateful for it all.