The Wall

What non-cancer humans do not realize is that once you have been diagnosed with cancer it is as if you were hit with a cancer-firing-squad bullet. And from then on you consistently are taken to “the wall” where the cancer firing squad stands and aims directly at you. This is done during the countless follow up check-ups that you will need to participate in the rest of your life. And you pray, sweat and hope you will never get hit again.

They aim and you wait for fate and chance. Sometimes quickly, and sometimes in slow motion you receive a miss, heaven forbid a nick or scratch,  or please no, the cancer bullet once again.

But each time the one at the wall

feels very much all the emotions

of standing at a true firing squad wall…

just waiting.

These past few weeks I have been placed at the wall several times. It began with a minor check I did not even have to do but did to be thorough.

At first the outcome was told to me that it was a miss which flooded me with exhaustion and relief only to be called back a week later to say there was a nick and I need to return. Blindfolded again I return to the wall; sick with terror and trepidation.

I wait the long wait at the wall; blindfolded. And once again I am told there was a miss which again exhausted me and flooded me with relief and tears.

Only to be called back again to say there was a possible nick and I would have to return once again to the wall.

Each time you stand with your blind fold on alone at the wall and so many thoughts fill you head. You pray fervently. You can’t help but wonder how many times fate and chance will be in your favor. You wonder what you did wrong to deserve being in this circumstance in the first place. You wonder if you are important enough to get passed by the bullet.

I am thankful for modern medicine and tests to save my life.

But I wish all those standing on or behind the firing squad side would be a little more sensitive to us who are forced to face the wall each time. It is terrifying for us and it involves our very lives.

It is just a job for them–unless they got struck by the bullet and have to stand by the wall, too. And then they would know what we go through each check up.

Be kind.

We have no choice but to trust and hope the aim is poor.


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