I find special comfort in the strength I have discovered…and the

unexpected changes that have occurred in my life.

Today, I am “cancer-free” and, cautiously, reclaiming my physical health, my life…and a sense of normalcy. I feel good. I am strong and have started getting back into the world and all of the things I missed.

Regular check-ups, consisting of scans and blood work, are a part of my life now, but I am grateful for each new day.

I feel like a have a second chance – an opportunity to make the most of the time I’ve been granted.

As my prior posts have indicated, facing my own mortality has shifted my priorities.

How could it not? This “shift” has been both personal and professional and driven by one thing – time. You know that stopwatch ticking at the beginning of ‘60 Minutes?’ I often hear that in my head. The value I place on time is personal and life-altering.

Admittedly still a work-in-progress, I am learning to channel my time into endeavors that bring joy and fulfillment.

I am clear that this new-found value regarding time has given me purpose and permission to lead a more fulfilling life, filled with love, happiness, and purpose…regardless of the length of time I may have left. Survivors recognize that every day they have is an opportunity to continue growing, learning, and evolving as individuals. Every day is a blessing.

I flew to Detroit for a business meeting last week.

My first flight anywhere in a very long time. On the surface, little had changed.

Philadelphia is a city with an abundance of great virtues; the airport is still not one of them.

The most striking thing that immediately stood out to me was that the world stopped wearing masks while I was “off the grid.” Aside from a small handful of individuals, no one was wearing one. I thought that odd given what I have been through and the threats to people like me with compromised immune systems.

But it felt great to be back in the world.

On Sunday I went to see humorist Fran Leibowitz at a small theatre in my neighborhood. The venue was small – 1,300 seats – and was about fifty percent full. Again only a handful were wearing masks, but no one said anything to me. In fact, most smiled and were courteous.

And tomorrow I’m going to a restaurant that I have wanted to try for the last three years.

Routine chores like putting gas in the car, picking up a prescription and shopping have become strategically planned. I go to stores that I know well and do my best to get in and get out as quickly as possible.

This was the case when I went a local market. I was buying avocado when I heard “Get out of here with that mask!” “What’s with that, anyway?” “Why don’t you just take it off?!”

It took me a minute to realize that this woman was talking to me.

“I have cancer, you asshole. I wear a mask as a means of protecting myself. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. In fact, wearing a mask is not a political statement; it’s a health and safety measure recommended by my doctor, public health experts and organizations, like the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Centers for Disease Control (CDC). So, unlike you, you ignorant cretin, my decision to wear a mask is based on scientific evidence and public health guidelines rather than political considerations. And you can kiss my black ass!” That is exactly what I thought. But, in reality, I said nothing. At first, I looked at her like she was crazy. Perhaps she was. I just moved away.

I believe that my cancer led to personal growth and a shift in perspective. I have developed greater patience and understanding towards others, even in difficult situations. It is a valuable trait that can benefit not only me but also those around me – even jerks.

I am a cancer survivor, not a cancer victim. That is my perspective and I am sticking with it. This reflects where I am right now – a sense of empowerment, resilience, and determination to overcome the challenges that cancer presents. The shift in mindset has been empowering and helps me focus on living a fulfilling life – beyond cancer.

It’s also essential for me to continue seeking emotional support, whether through counseling, support groups, or talking to friends and family, as I navigate my cancer journey. It’s important to remember that everyone’s experience with cancer is unique, and the emotional journey can vary greatly from person to person. This is where I am today…learning and adjusting.

Written By

Eric Roberts