You Are Worthy
When I saw this picture of myself on my own social media today, I cried.
So much has changed since this picture was taken. So much changed the moment I heard the words “Amie, of the 12 biopsies taken all 12 tested positive for breast cancer.” and with only but a second until the next sentence to breathe. “the one biopsy we took from the lymph nodes also tested positive for cancer. I’m very sorry”
It was like I wanted to be strong for her, and my whole world was crumbling as she uttered the truths. It was like I wanted to be strong for me and I also wanted to vanish into thin air.
I’ve always been what I’ll call “a noticeable human” as in I can’t leave the house without someone noticing me. Sometimes when I’m in a hurry, I avoid errands because I always bump into someone I know. Errands aren’t ever quick. I’ve been known to go out for milk and come home 3 hours later. Mikey always comments when we are out together “everyone knows you” So, if I’m short on time, I won’t go because I want to share time with those I bump into.
I didn’t realize I’d miss it. I didn’t realize that one day I would go to the store and people I know wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t realize I could go in to a store for one thing and actually be 5 minutes. My little brother often commented when he was home from New Zealand how everything takes longer here, because you can’t just go to the bank machine without seeing someone you know. I guess growing up here, and always being noticeable I never noticed, even with him pointing it out. Until I did. Until I got cancer. Now, it’s like I live on an island, where no one knows me.
I went to the store yesterday and twice in two isles I ran into a woman who’s known me since I was a baby. She would 100% recognize me, if I didn’t “have” cancer. But, she didn’t notice me. I smiled at her and said hi as she walked right by me. Not even recognizing my voice. I was totally taken aback. And then I realized why. I don’t look the same. She didn’t know it was me. Then I see her coming again, walking straight towards me. Smiling at me too. And, walking right past me again like any other smiling stranger. I didn’t stop her, twice. And, that’s completely out of character for me. I talk to everyone. I let errands take hours because I care how you are when I see you out in public. But, yesterday, I just couldn’t. It’s like it had to sink in how unrecognizable I am. And, it hurts. Part of me wishes I would’ve stopped her, and said hello. Let her know it was me. And the other part just didn’t want to be seen. I had more hair as a baby than I do now. It would’ve been shocking for her. And, when people see me for the first time I can see the look of shock on their face. I just couldn’t deal with it in that moment. So I didn’t. I stayed incognito. I got back in the jeep and looked at myself in the mirror. It’s not lost on me how different I look. And, I’m sad.
Then last night, the same thing happened. I went to get a bottle of tears from my eye doctor. She knows me. I’ve referred several hundred people to her since I transitioned out of optometry to work full time in trauma. When we run into each other in our small town, there is always a catch up. So, I’m in her office to get some tears, and I ask the assistant if the ones I asked for are the best ones for the burning tears that literally feel like they’re eating my face skin off when I cry. She says “hold on I’ll ask to be sure the doctor doesn’t want to suggest anything else” The doctor, looks right at me and says “have you been here before?” I immediately realize it’s happening again, I’m unrecognizable. I call her by her first name, and say “I’m sorry, it’s Amie and I know I look unrecognizable” Her chin drops, and her own eyes well up with tears as she says “Amie. OMG I am so sorry. I didn’t know. How long have you been dealing with this?” We chat, and she gifts me the drops with her love and well wishes and I leave surrounded by care.
I get back to the jeep where Mikey and Kalvin are waiting and sink into my seat. My thinking feels distorted. Yesterday, I chose staying incognito and today I watched my eye doctor go into shock. I just want to pull my dumb hat down over my face and cry. But, it burns. I just want to run away. But, my toes are covered in blisters and my cuticles hurt so I’m wearing slippers, and the last thing I need is a broken neck. I just want to look in the mirror and see me. But, guess what? I don’t. I see me, only different me. Not the me in this picture. I don’t see her. I see hurting me. And, it stings like the salty tears on my cheeks.
I know lopsided, fun and funny me is there, but at times it’s like she left town and left the rest of me on this little weird island of pain. I know silly, spunky, determined me is there, but at times she feels small and defeated. And, when I see myself in pictures like the one on socials today where the spunk, the fun, funny was just there with ease I have to remind myself it is still there, it’s just not easy. It’s not easy when spunk is covered up with cancer. It’s not easy when funny is covered up with serious and fun is overtaken with bloodwork and chemotherapy. It’s just not easy. None of it.
I can not hide, being incognito is not who I am. Cancer is intense, and full of changes and emotions. I see and feel myself changing, every single day. But, ME… I’ll continue to show up, with or without hair. In my times of strength and in my vulnerable times, and every time between. You know friends, who we REALLY are, and what’s REALLY true about us… if you throw us on a deserted island the one thing we will find is more of who we really are, not less. We will find more truths, not less. We will become less incognito to ourselves not more.
I’m Amie. I might be unrecognizable on the outside, but on the inside I’m still me. The spark is still there, and I’m still worthy of my own smile and spunk. See you over in the Organic Isle. I’ll be wearing a flower hat. 🌸
