Why “Living in awe”? (My story pt. 1)
Here you are,
This is my story and it’s one I don’t tell often, maybe often enough, depending on who you ask. I’ve been living with pancreatic cancer, knowingly, for 5 years now. If pancreatic cancer has touched your life in someway or you’re familiar with the statistics, then you’re aware that you shouldn’t even be hearing from me.
I understand how unbelievable this sounds. I don’t even always believe myself! Imposter syndrome—you’ve heard of it. Well it turns out it’s applicable to all things…including a verifiable medical diagnosis of mass proportions. It’s intimidating to share. Half the time I have to refer to my written records that say the words “pancreatic carcinoma” and “Raquelle Ahrens” on the same page to help my mind link the two together as fact and reality. And when I tell you there are STILL people who don’t believe me…. Like, sir, I don’t want this! I’d rather the imaging, pathology reports, surgeons, doctors, radiologists and specialists be lying as well. But that is not the way the fortune cookie cracked.
Apart from this diagnosis being hard enough to believe coming from a seemingly healthy, young individual with no family history—to add to the disbelief—at this time I still have not had surgery or received chemo or radiation (much to my medical team’s chagrin).
During this time I’ve been living in many different emotional states: disbelief, fear, anger, worry, denial, flat out defeat, and at my worst, absolute abandon and indifference. Today I’m Living In Awe.
Sidebar: As some Instagram influencer has told you by now, healing is not linear. And neither are my thoughts, so settle in and pop a Dramamine, because this story may jump around a bit.
The indifference has probably been the scariest part, because I didn’t care if I lived or died anymore. That’s a really hard sentiment to say out loud and relive now in this moment. I never want to hurt or scare anyone close to me, which is often what has kept me from authentically sharing my story. However, I realized recently, that I’m not only withholding potentially helpful information from others, but from myself as well.
There is solace, comfort, healing, hope, and straight up lifesaving help that comes from sharing our stories with each other. So I’m putting aside my fear that you, reader, will judge me, shame me, not believe me, or hurt me in someway. You might do one or some of those things but I can’t let these negative experiences stop me from spreading light where I can. The truth is all of those things have already happened to me during the last 5 years.
I’ve suffered damaged relationships and even lost friendships over this, which has been devastating. I’ve been really hurt by people’s reactions to MY decisions about MY cancer. It’s almost unbelievable as I pen it, and still, I’m done hiding over it. I can’t control how you receive this, but as Adam Sandler says in The Wedding Singer, “I have the microphone and you don’t so you WILL LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY!” Me and my metaphorical microphone have the floor, but not to worry, my aim is to listen and learn so much more from all of you.
It might get heavy, but I’ll still keep it light. I’ve muscled through this entire experience with an unshakable spirit of humor and the phrases my dear friend and I use as an oxygen mask we administer to each other, “We laugh so we don’t cry.” and “Everything’s always fine.” The key here being that it is absolutely not fine, but we persist nonetheless.
This anecdote will be hopeful when it is and not when it isn’t. This isn’t some idealistic version of events because I’m sharing it publicly now. This will be about as raw and real life as it gets because that is where the growth and lessons are.
It’s imperative to note that I truly have only made it this far clinging to faith when I felt hopeless, wielding strength and courage like a sword even when I had to fake it, and trust falling into my support team (you know who you are).
So to recap, I have pancreatic cancer. In the following open letters I will tell you how we found it, the diagnosis, what I have and haven’t done, what the journey has been like, where I’m headed, and how everyday I’m Living In Awe. Thank you for being here.
There you go~