The Shamed Invisibles

Stage Four, MBC. We are the shamed invisibles.
Somehow, WE didn’t beat cancer. Cancer beat us. 

Shaking our heads in disbelief.
Feeling like we’ve failed.
We fought during early stage.
Fought hard.
As if our life depended on it. 

Our eyes cast down in shame, we whisper “yes, stage four”. 
Lifelong treatment. Yes.
We’re so sorry,
To put you, our beloveds, through this all over again. 

I know you saw me eating ice cream,
a potato chip, some candy.
I know I had a drink or two.
But besides that occasional digression-
I really tried to win. 

I’ll admit I wasn’t managing stress well. 
Sure I let my ex get the best of me.
The way he tried to take me down.
Take my home. Take my money.
The ways in which he lived in lies.
And how shocking it was to see him leave our kids.
I’ll admit—I let that stress get to me.
I let that grief suffocate me. At least for a while. 

Yes, I should have yoga’d more.
And breathed more. Cardio’d more.
Slept more. Meditated. Relaxed.
Let go of anger. And fear. 

I’m so sorry.
I know it’s hard for you
to see this happening to me.
To see me losing.
After all you went through
with me the first time.

All that time.
Mommy always sick.
Then the recurrence.
Mom in bed.
The surgeries.
The chemo.

And 11 years later,
the beast came back.
Single mom and single cancer patient,
Stage 4 terminal
I was so terrified. 

I hope you see it’s hard for me, too.
To see the fear and sadness on your faces;
to see so much premature grief
on your beautiful faces—it’s hard for me, too. 
I’m not used to losing
or failing
or coming up short.

Yet here I am
stage4 metastatic
breast cancer, shhhhhh.
I’m so sorry.
Truly deeply sorry. 
I hope you see, it’s hard for me too.

I am the shamed invisible.
I didn’t beat it.
I didn’t kick its ass.
And it is kicking mine.