Tomorrow I begin my second round of chemotherapy.

This round was supposed to be a precautionary round of treatment following surgery to remove what had remained of the tumour.

Twelve days ago, I had a routine CT scan, two days later my oncologist decided I needed a PET scan as well. When I asked my nurse whether that was normal, she assured me it was routine.

The following Monday my oncologist called.

They found a 6 mm nodule on my lung.

I was devastated.

When I was first told I needed a second round of chemotherapy, I completely broke down. I cried for three days straight. The first round of chemotherapy was the hardest thing I have ever been through. It wasn’t just the physical toll, it was the fear, the uncertainty, and the feeling that my entire life had been turned upside down once again.

Am I ever going to be free of it?

As the reality of another round of treatment began to sink in, I started telling myself that everything would be okay. I would push through, I would do what needs to be done, then I could put this chapter behind me.

But life had other plans.

Now I find myself staring down another unknown path.

There is a chance the nodule could be scar tissue or the result of a previous infection. But cancer has taught me to hope with caution. It is a cruel disease that doesn’t care whether you are a good person, a sole provider for your family, a single mother raising younger children or someone that has lived a healthy life, and never touched a cigarette, or an alcoholic drink.

It’s hard not to wonder if, somehow, I caused this.

Was it all the sugary treats I ate as a child? The deli ham sandwiches in my school lunchbox? Microplastics in the water bottles I drank from? Or did I indulge in one too many wines or double cheeseburgers from McDonalds?

I have spent countless hours replaying the choices I’ve made up until this point.

Since my diagnosis I reduced the amount of plastic in my home and cleared my wardrobe of synthetic materials. I have stopped eating takeaway, I cut back on red meat, I buy most of my groceries from the farmers market and switched to non-toxic cleaning products.

Was it enough?

For the past year and a half, I have been living in survival mode. It is a strange place to exist. You learn how to function while carrying fear and sadness everywhere you go. You make plans knowing they may never happen. You celebrate your friends weddings, birthdays and growing families while quietly wondering if you will be around to celebrate the next milestone with them.

There is a loneliness in that thought, that is difficult to explain to anyone who hasn’t lived it.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know what the next set of scans will show or how this chapter ends.

What I do know is that I have made it through every difficult day so far, including the days I was convinced I wouldn’t.

For now that is enough.

Sarah