Do you think I’m going to die?

It was seven years ago today that I underwent my first round of chemotherapy. It feels surreal to think that it’s already been a little over seven years since my breast cancer diagnosis.

When I reflect on my entire experience of having cancer, the drive to the Cape Breton Regional Hospital with my mother for my first round of chemotherapy is a moment I often look back on.

I remember turning onto the Sydney bypass and wondering what was going through her mind. Was she afraid? Did she question whether or not I would survive? As we made our way closer to the hospital, I turned to her and said, “Do you think I’m going to die?” Her response was, “Kimberley, we could get struck and killed by an 18-wheeler right now.”

Although I’m pretty sure her direct response isn’t what most mothers would say, it was a response I needed to hear because it awakened me to an important reality. That reality was this: Death is always a possibility, with or without a cancer diagnosis. Yet I didn’t realize it until that moment.

There is no question that my mother’s response to my question shook me. I began to reflect on my life up until that point and how much I took it for granted. I felt so reckless. I didn’t always ‘seize the moment’ because I always believed I had tomorrow. It seems the reality of our mortality does not truly resonate with us until our life is at risk of ending. Now that my life was on the line, I was praying and hoping for a second chance to be better and to live better - something I should have been doing all along.

Hearing that someone has passed away from cancer, especially breast cancer, not only profoundly saddens me, but it terrifies me as well. My heart quickly begins to race because I know that cancer is a severe threat. I start to wonder if cancer would try and come for me again. It’s a frightening feeling to experience, and I experience it every time someone passes away from cancer.

I recognize that most people don’t feel comfortable talking about death, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s going to one day happen. Ignoring death or fearing it hinders us from enjoying life. Sadly, not everyone will have the privilege of growing old. It took a cancer diagnosis and an honest conversation with my mother to realize this harsh reality. Unfortunately, it usually takes death or a threat to our lives to understand how valuable every day is.

Whenever I get worked up over a sudden physical pain or when the fear of relapse surfaces, I remind myself of what my mother said to me seven years ago today. It helps me to put life into perspective. My cancer may come back, and it may not. Either way, I can’t focus on it and let it stop me from enjoying life. I may not have control over how long I’ll live, but I do have control over how I’ll live. I will never forget to put my family, friends, love, happiness and an appreciation for the simple things first because that is all that matters—nothing else.