I realized the other day that it’s time to clear out some of the detritus from cancer treatment. I still had Magic Swizzle under my bathroom sink, hats and beanies hanging in my closet, and a bin overflowing with head scarves. I don’t need this constant reminder, not when I’m trying to move past it.
But that prompted a question that turned into a post in Thrivers, my local breast cancer group: “I finished chemo at the end of February, yet my scarves and hats are still taking up space. Part of me wants to donate to women who could use them, but the other part of me feels like I should box them up and save them in case… you know. What have you done?”
Naturally, I’ve gotten a range of responses, but everyone understood the feeling. Some kept all of theirs, saying it makes them feel safe somehow and like they’re not jinxing themselves. Others gave them all away, as a way to put everything behind them.
I think what I’m going to do is donate the ones I didn’t really wear or didn’t really like, and keep the rest. We found a storage bin in the basement that will protect them and put them out of sight.
Someone recently shared something she saw online that’s super accurate:
“I think the hardest part of cancer treatment is the end – when everyone assumes you’re ‘cured’ and you no longer need their help or support. You’re in your weakest, most devastated state, plus you no longer have a mission you had when you began this journey: to kill the cancer. The cancer is toast, but so are you, and now like a soldier at the end of war, you need help putting yourself back together, only everyone has gone home since they assume the war has been won.” – Author unknown