Normal (After Cancer Packs Up and Leaves… For Now)

I haven’t thought about cancer much in the last three days.
And apparently that makes me feel guilty.

Is that normal?

Hell if I know.

Was I normal while I was going through chemotherapy — when cancer occupied every waking thought, every appointment, every nap, every Google search at 2 a.m.?
And now that I haven’t thought about it much for a few days, am I suddenly not normal?

Or… am I now normal because I’m not actively right now being poisoned by modern medicine in an effort to save my life?

See how I slipped in right now?

That little phrase is doing a lot of emotional heavy lifting.

Because right now quietly implies this could change.
Which means not thinking about cancer might be suspicious.
But thinking it might come back is also exhausting.
So which one is normal — not thinking about it, or thinking about it lurking around the corner like an uninvited guest who knows where you live?

Honestly, cancer messes with your internal compass.
When it’s gone, you don’t get a clean handoff to “regular life.”
There’s no exit ramp labeled WELCOME BACK TO NORMAL.
It’s more like you wander around asking, “Am I allowed to enjoy this?” and “Should I be more afraid right now?”

And here’s the thing: I’ve never been normal normal anyway.

As the saying goes, “Normal” is just a setting on the washing machine.
(Which isn’t even a thing anymore, but I remember when it was. Right next to Permanent Press and Whatever This Fabric Is.)

So maybe this is normal now — forgetting for a few days.
Laughing.
Living.
Feeling weird about not feeling terrified.

Maybe normal after cancer isn’t peace or fear — it’s the awkward, clumsy space in between, where you’re alive, suspicious of calm, and learning how to exist without an enemy to fight every minute of the day.

If that’s normal… I guess I’ll take it.