The first time I had to check “yes” to having a history of cancer, it felt like a punch in the gut.

You’re immediately put in this high risk box. You can visibly see your doctors eyes light up when you mention that six letter word as they think, “Well this case just got more interesting!”.

Even in the medical field, cancer is uncomfortable. Most of the time instead of asking how I was feeling, they jumped into a slue of follow-up questions and scrutinizing examinations.

The dermatologist wants a skin check immediately. The neurologist thinks your migraines may be a tumor. Your gynecologist wants to start mammograms years earlier than normal. The kidney stone you had once now is a red flag for renal cancer. Suddenly your bone pain could actually be a sign of metastasis.

Test after test after test.

Scans. Labs. MRIs. CTs. Ultrasounds. Bloodwork.

It’s such a shift. Doctors continue to say that I am “young and healthy”, but I don’t feel that way at all.

How can I be healthy when cancer lived and grew inside me?

How can I be healthy when all of these specialists are monitoring me like hawks?

Often when I went on a walk with my parents in our neighborhood, people would say we all look “good and healthy” when exchanging pleasantries. We would force thin smiles and nod but beneath the surface, I still had cancer.

Illness isn’t always visible. I looked fine. I felt fine. But I wasn’t fine. My body was not fine.

I’m learning that the word “healthy” means different things to different people. In most doctors eyes, I’m seeing that it mostly has to do with behavioral habits such as living an active lifestyle, eating right, and avoiding damaging habits like drinking and smoking.

So although I am now cleared as “young and healthy”, I struggle to accept that label knowing all that I’ve been through and will continue to go through.