Coming Back to Life by Rebeccah Silence

Author:Rebeccah Silence
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Health Communications Inc
Published: 2022-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

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I did fight. And I was not the 95 percent who had stage 1 cancer. Who knows how long I was sick before they caught it? Who knows why I had cancer or why I’m still here. Here’s what I know: I am still here. I will tell you I am not okay with the fact that I had cancer but I am at peace with it. Because I did have cancer. I had cancer like I have blue eyes. I couldn’t control it. No one in my family history had ever had melanoma. My family has a much higher rate of heart disease in women than anything else, and addictions. But not cancer. I was the one. Just like I was the one who was shorter than the rest of the women in the family. I said earlier that I don’t believe in luck, and I don’t. I believe in life. It’s not a test; it’s life. And I believe that healing is possible.

And I will admit to you, on my knees, I do not understand why I have survived much of what I survived. It’s not luck, I’m certain of that, but I don’t know what it is if it’s not luck. I choose to believe it’s a commitment to life and choosing to come back to life, over and over again. And as Byron Katie says, “It’s God’s Business.” A Course in Miracles says, “Nothing real can be threatened, nothing unreal exists.” I focused on that during this time because I knew that whether I lived or died from cancer wouldn’t be up to me. It was bigger than me. I could only commit to life as my best. The sooner that we stop trying desperately to question or figure it all out the more life we will give ourselves access to living. We are alive, until we aren’t. What is real for me is that my body is phenomenal and has always carried me through. My body has stood for my strength, even when I refused to. My body kept me and my babies alive and continues to keep me alive. What I knew for sure when cancer arrived is that I would not be a statistic. Fuck statistics.

And then statistics blindsided me again. Upon initial diagnosis, I was told, for sure, “You’re going to be okay. You have a 95 percent chance that we got all of the cancer in the initial surgery.” The initial surgery happened while I was still seven months pregnant. The tumor was on my left arm and they cut down to the bone from my shoulder to my elbow and took wide margins of flesh and tissue, as much as they could. That was all they could do until the baby inside of me was safely born. The doctors said that the tissue that they took out looked healthy. They couldn’t “stage” the cancer (tell what stage, 1 to 4, the cancer was) until the baby was born because it required that I be injected with radioactive dye.

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