“Like a butterfly stuck in a chrysalis, waiting for the perfect moment, I was waiting for the day I could burst forth and fly away and find my home.”
― Emme Rollins
Diagnosed at 19, and consequently irrevocably metamorphosed – after toiling through the murky “pupa” phase of my own uncertainty and pain – I emerged at 21, transformed into a battle-scarred survivor of pancreatic cancer.
Already slim, the 30 pounds that slid off my bones like warm butter left me emaciated and ashen, and I found myself struggling to find my place in the wake of my old life. Over the span of two years, while in the process of undergoing two exhaustive surgeries, conditioning my lungs to function on their own again, suffering through being poked with needles 10 times a day, and shakily relearning how to walk, the world had changed. Earth had continued to revolve, but I had not spun in unison with it.
At the risk of sounding ungrateful for surviving a tribulation many unfortunately do not, I will say this: The road to overcoming the stain cancer leaves upon the soul does not end when you are cured.
According to the National Cancer Institute at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), major depression affects approximately 25 percent of cancer patients and survivors.
U.S. News & World Report states, “[many cancer survivors face issues of low self-esteem and self-image, and disfigurements] can deeply affect how they see themselves in the world and how they relate to other people.”
From a personal standpoint, these statistics are all too familiar. For the most part, I have largely kept silent about the depression and body image issues I have faced. Due to a surgical scar which crisscrosses my body – starting from just underneath my breasts and stretching past my navel – at 28, I still don’t feel comfortable wearing anything showing my midriff, and I continue to face issues adapting to my post-cancer body.
Hidden
Warriors
Project:
Helping Women with Cancer Find Their Inner Strength
by Brittany "Bella" Graham