Hey. Hi there. Hello. It’s me. It’s Kat.
Welcome to the first episode of I-don’t-know-what-we’re-going-to-call-this-podcast. But here we are.
I decided to finally start this podcast. And I’m nervous. I feel silly, honestly — talking to the air, or to my cat laying on the bed in front of me. I don’t know. It feels a little ridiculous.
But I also want to share whatever I’ve got to share, and hope that in sharing my life — and how I keep finding little moments of magic and blessings, left and right, while living with cancer hanging over my head — it means something to someone.
I just have to try.
So yes, it’s awkward. It’s weird. I don’t know how to do this yet, and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop feeling awkward doing it. But I’m going to start anyway.
Why I’m Starting Here
I’m starting today with this episode because I’m lucky. I’m alive.
I’m one of the 18% of uterine leiomyosarcoma patients who haven’t had a recurrence in the first 18 months. And while it’s completely and utterly terrifying that — depending on which study you look at — I might have as much as a*54% chance of dying within the next three years.
I’m also still lucky. I’m still cancer-free, and I want to do something with what I’ve got left.
So I’m going to chase these big, awkward, embarrassing, silly, wonderful dreams of mine.
And I’m grateful you’re here to join me — looking forward to hanging around for as long as I can.
On Survivor’s Guilt
When I was first diagnosed with uterine leiomyosarcoma — a rare and aggressive cancer — the concept of “survivor’s guilt“ didn’t click for me. Why would I feel guilty for being alive when someone else dies of cancer?
It’s not like my being alive took their spot.
There are no trade-ins, no swapping allowed.
You live, or you die.
Period.
But these past couple of months, two people — both younger than me — died quickly from rare, aggressive cancers. And I’m learning that I somehow feel they were more worthy of surviving than me.
Which is absurd.
But it is what it is, nonetheless.
I have a friend whose sister was killed by a fentanyl overdose — someone taken too young, for no good reason, leaving a giant hole in her sister’s heart forever. My friend has said she feels a need to live her life for both of them now — to make her life count extra, to make up for her sister losing hers.
I didn’t understand that.
Until suddenly, now, I do.
Making It Count
The more I witness good people doing good things, being taken too young and too quickly by cancer, the more I recognize a feeling: that the only way forward for me with this diagnosis is to make my life count for something outside of myself.
Does that make sense? Maybe not — unless you’ve been there. But it is what it is, these days.
Life sure did seem simpler before. But if this is what it is, then it’s also more meaningful, more precious, more sacred than it’s ever been for me. And if I’m going to keep being lucky — keep being cancer-free — then I need to make it count. For sure.
That’s episode one of this (still unnamed) podcast. Still feeling silly, but proud of myself for trying and for getting started anyway.
Looking forward to talking to you soon. Love you. Bye.
*I misspoke here, got my numbers inverted: I have a 46% chance of dying within the next three years and a 54% chance of still being alive.
