Is it just me or does anyone else feel like it’s Christmas or their birthday when that direct deposit hits their account? Maybe my mind has been too focused on money and finances – but finally feeling like we’re not drowning is like I’m breathing for the first time.
As next payday approaches, Sept 13th, it marks finally being out of the cancer-induced pit. Though my body feels great and our families helped tremendously during chemotherapy, there were still things that needed to be paid while I received treatment and recovered.
I couldn’t emotionally stay in the apartment where I struggled through chemo and surgery recovery, so we moved. My job did not pay me for the six months I was out because I had not been in the county long enough then prorated my salary for another five months after that where I was making less than minimum wage. We paid for diapers and wipes – which any parent knows is its own category. There were a lot of things we were grateful for – especially both of our jobs being stable and family help – but each time I looked at our bank account during the last three years, all I saw were the consequences of cancer in every account.
As of this month, I finally have more than $100 saved for a house. A HOUSE YOU GUYS! Though I’m thrilled and am working my butt off to get there, I think about how if ovarian cancer didn’t grip me by my wrist that I may have been there by now. By now, we might have been in our own home. By now, we might have had another child. By now, I wouldn’t be advocating for September being Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month.
But it didn’t happen that way.
I wouldn’t have met wonderful people surviving and thriving either in their own treatments or working endlessly to find a cure. I wouldn’t have the strong drive and passion for helping others pull themselves up when cancer has been crushing them down. I wouldn’t have built the powerful relationships in our family and friends which couldn’t have been fortified with anything other than fire.
And THAT is priceless.