Have cancer? Don't quit your job!

Hi everyone! It's been awhile, so I thought I'd check in and give everyone an update. When I was first diagnosed and reading blogs, the postings usually stopped shortly after treatment was over and I was always left wondering what just what the heck these cool, resilient people were doing with their post-treatment lives. So here I am, assuming I am also one of those cool, resilient people, giving you an update as to where I am.

My last entry discussed my clean post-treatment scan, which I was (and still am) ecstatic about. While I'm not out of the woods yet -- I will have FIVE MORE YEARS of check ups to monitor if I'm still in remission -- it was an important necessary step towards Jen getting her groove back.

Speaking of Jen getting her groove back, I moved back to NYC on April 3rd. For those of you who know me, I have a like-hate relationship with this city. Notice I didn't say "love-hate", because I will never "love" this city in the way I thought I could as a young pup watching Sex and the City, but there are a lot of things I really enjoy about living here, like the endless cool events, awesome restaurants, and not having to own a car. However, there are also a lot of things I hate about it -- the cost of living, the crowds, constant honking, the lack of green space, and how you can't even play a simple game of tennis without having going online and paying money to "rent" a court for an hour -- which means living here has always been a challenge for me. And is even more so now in my post-cancer life. Needless to say I have had many near Ray Ploshansky-esque breakdowns eerily similar to the one below:



Although, to be fair, living here means I get the pleasure of exchanging nods of greeting with Mr. Ray Ploshanky himself, Alex Karpovsky, on the streets of Williamsburg, so I guess that should go in the NYC-plus category.

All of this is a long way for me to express that being back to NYC has been hard. It's also been fun, but mainly it's been really fucking hard. I've sent out hundreds of resumes and cover letters (sadly, this number is not an exaggeration), and have only heard back from two positions. I'm still waiting to hear back about next steps, so I am still hopeful on that front, but man, it really feels like 2008 again out there! Graduating college in 2010 means I've only ever had "tough" job markets, but something feels extra tough right now because the economy is supposedly improving, but I'm not getting any bites! It could be because the last job I had on my resume ended in August of 2014, so there is the elephant in the room as to what I have been doing in the meantime. Perhaps adding that I was receiving chemotherapy would increase my marketability? At this point, it might not hurt...

Which brings me to the headline of the blog, which is specifically for those who are recently diagnosed who may have stumbled across this blog: even if you feel like shit, even if your treatment schedule seems overwhelming, DO NOT QUIT YOU JOB UNLESS YOU ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY HAVE TO.

For many people, the immediate post-treatment months can actually be harder on an emotional level than going through treatment itself. Suleika Jaouad, who was diagnosed with Leukemia a few years ago and blogged about her experience in the NYTimes, has a great column about this that I really, really relate to. Even though I feel "normal", health-wise, the rest of my life is still totally up in the air -- largely because I don't have a job to anchor me. Whether I like it or not, I am very "American" in the sense that my job does define a lot of who I am. And not having one means that a big part of my identity is in complete limbo.

That is why I would recommend anyone going through treatment to try to stick it out and keep working. I completely understand that many people react to treatment much worse than I did -- indeed, I am very thankful that I rarely felt 'sick' throughout treatment -- and that it might not be possible for everyone to keep working. But for those who feel okay, I strongly advise sticking with your job, because it will make your post-treatment life SO much easier.

PHEW! Still with me after that rant? Good. Now, on to some happier news:

• I was awarded a $5,000 Life Grant from the Cameron Siemers Foundation for Hope. The "life grant" is awarded to young adults who have faced a life threatening illness and who want to make a difference in their lives and their communities. Past recipients have used this to start their own organization, to volunteer abroad, or for school. I plan to use this for graduate school, which I will (hopefully) be starting this fall. I am incredibly humbled -- and also excited! -- to receive this award!
• I'M GOING KAYAKING IN MONTANA! I've blogged before about First Descents, an awesome organization which provides FREE outdoor adventures to young adults battling or recovering from cancer. I'll be white water kayaking in Tarkio, Montana the last week of July and couldn't be more stoked. This'll be me in a month and a half!

Image courtesy of Asha Mevlana

So, that's been the last few months in a nutshell. While they've been frustrating in a lot of ways, I'm so incredibly happy and thankful that I'm healthy, cancer-free, and feeling great. Suleika Jaouad, in the blog I linked to above, captures a lot of what I'm feeling right now: 

"It is hard not to speak in clichés about cancer. It can be even harder not to feel as if I have to live up to those clichés. I sometimes feel a deep sense of guilt for not doing a better job of making lemonade out of metaphorical lemons. I know that I am one of the lucky ones, and I am deeply thankful to be alive. In writing about the problems I am facing now, I worry about sounding ungrateful — or worse yet, insensitive to my friends in the cancer community who may never go into remission."

As they say in Cancer World (and also, apparently, AA), I need to take things one day at a time. I'm feeling healthy and strong, which is the most important thing right now. SOME day the rest of my life will fall into place. I hope it'll be sooner rather than later, but as long as it's coming eventually, I'm going to be okay.