Under Toad Days: Surviving the Uncertainty of Cancer Recurrence

After my very last radiation treatment for breast cancer, I lay on a cold steel table hairless, half-dressed, and astonished by the tears streaming down my face. I thought I would feel happy about finally reaching the end of treatment, but instead, I was sobbing. At the time, I wasn't sure what emotions I was feeling. Looking back, I think I cried because this body had so bravely made it through 18 months of surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation. Ironically, I also cried because I would not be coming back to that familiar table where I had been comforted and encouraged. Instead of joyous, I felt lonely, abandoned, and terrified. This was the rocky beginning of cancer survivorship for me.

Now that my cancer treatment is done and my disease is no longer visible to my physicians and their diagnostic tests, I have begun to deal with the weight of its uncertain return. For me, this uncertainty is evil and murky like the “Under Toad” in John Irving's novel The World According to Garp. In the beginning of the novel, the protagonist watches his young son playing near the water and yells warnings to him of the strong undertow. The boy mistakenly hears “Under Toad” and spends the remainder of his time looking for the toad monster lurking underwater, just out of sight. Irving continues to rely on the Under Toad as a symbol of evil throughout the book. After my own experience, I can no longer think of the Under Toad as just a compelling image in a book. Instead, the image has become a bit too real, for what is the uncertainty of recurrence if not an Under Toad?

I have now finished surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, and reconstruction; I'm done, according …