Essay from a Cancer Survivor

In the internet world, you meet some wonderful people that at a different time in history, you would have never had an opportunity to meet. One such lady, is Caroline. She is so dear. She got diagnosed with cancer last year and has been so brave. She wrote this essay, and I wanted to share it with you all. If you have any comments or notes to Caroline, I will be happy to forward them onto her...

I was sitting in front of a mirror this morning, combing my newly grown hair, when it struck me that God has a funny sense of humor when it comes to answering prayers.

Although it’s been close to thirty years, I still remember the nightly prayer request of my youth. A simple request, really.

I wanted just one thing: hair that feathered back on command.

Yes, you guessed it, as a child of the 70s, it was my fervent desire to have naturally wavy hair that felled softly into feather wings ala Farrah Fawcett, the earthly angel. Never mind that I had inherited silky, impossibly shiny, and beautiful jet black hair—the kind you see on a TV commercial, gently swaying across the screen in slow motion on the head of a beautiful model. In my world, at that time, such straight hair was a liability. Not having today’s advanced styling products, my hair did nary a curl, nothing even resembling a feather. Even with a curling iron, the most my hair would yield was a puny and static bend at the bottom which would retreat to its downward position within an hour.

It was with this perspective that I surveyed my hair this morning, six months after finishing chemo, on my now 38 year old head. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have wrinkles around my eyes and my hair is now kind of gray and shorter than I ever would have imagined. But it is, at long last, curly. Not only that---it is feathering all over the place. Another year or so and I will have a do to rival Farrah’s. Furthering my joy and delight, such a do is once again in style. I guess God does answer certain prayers, if you are willing to wait and are patient about when and how they are revealed.

That’s not to say I welcome cancer nor chemotherapy and I certainly don’t like the price I paid to get the dream hair style of my tender youth. But I can’t help but see the greater irony in finally getting this hairdo. It’s symbolic, you see, for cancer has not been solely a bad experience. Along this journey, mingled in with the pain, the uncertainty, and the crushing fear, there have also been many joyful surprises, a few unexpected blessings and more than one answered prayer.

I lost all my hair (and a few internal organs) but I finally see I am wholly loved. And it was only after seeing the weakness in my body that I was able to see the strength of my relationships. Cancer, with all it’s ugly inconveniences and scary truths, has a way of revealing the beauty and the mysticisms of this world we inhabit and the people we love. It is both a great humanizer and an all powerful teacher.

Still, I am glad to be done with the lessons, for the time being. I truly hope my new curly hairdo symbolizes a new chapter in my life---one in which I am cured of illness but am enriched spiritually. I hope too that I continue to see the mysteries life has to offer. Mostly though, I hope I never forget that old familiar dreams can sometimes be found in the most unlikely places--even while wondering down dark and unknown roads.