Is when you get a CT scan on your birthday. (Not me, but just heard a staff member share an enthusiastic—and loud—birthday wish to another person in the waiting room.)
Is when you’re drinking the contrast for your CT scan during a pandemic, in a waiting room where every third seat is open, while everyone keeps their masks on except for the occasional sip of contrast drink.
Is when you’re a pro at packing your treatment day bag for all possibilities: work, pleasure reading, snacking, hydration, being too cold, being too warm, diarrhea, headache, etc.
Is when you know as much or more about the pros/cons of various bandage types as the person who’s putting them on you.
Is when you don’t blink at a 10-hour day of travel/testing/waiting/treatment.
Is when you have been in the game long enough to be surprised on the rare day when the breast cancer clinic is mostly filled with women who are 60+ years old. And then remembering that they’re the normal ones. You’re not.
Is when you’re as conscious of changes and in your body as a professional athlete would be.
cancertake2 