Introduction

Five years ago, just as COVID-19 began to wreak havoc in the United States, I received a double dose of fear and uncertainty. At the age of 46, I discovered a lump in my breast, marking the beginning of my battle with cancer. This past month, during my bi-annual scans, I was relieved to hear the words "still cancer-free." In the world of cancer, reaching that five-year milestone is significant; the likelihood of a recurrence significantly diminishes if you can navigate the initial five years without setbacks.

The Reaction of Friends

When I shared my encouraging results with friends, their applause and supportive remarks were heartwarming. However, I couldn't shake off the feeling that while I could discuss my cancer, there was another “C” – COVID – that I couldn't openly address.

A Painful Memory

This became painfully clear during a barbecue in the spring of 2021, one of my first social events after a long, isolating year. As I settled onto an outdoor sofa, I overheard two friends lamenting about how their children's sports had been disrupted and how dull their social lives had become. One of them emphatically declared, “Enough is enough! The whole thing was a bunch of bullshit!”

Stunned, I excused myself, retreating to the restroom where I sat crying, feeling as if I had been transported to a different reality. Did they not recognize the gravity of the situation we were emerging from? Did they ignore the heart-wrenching moments I’d faced, like hugging my husband goodbye before surgery amid a world gripped by fear?

Memories of COVID

Memories of COVID’s early days flooded my mind: the deserted hospital corridors, the healthcare workers in full PPE, and the palpable fear hanging in the air. The anxiety of possibly contracting the virus during my treatment was overwhelming, particularly when the government reassured us that everything would be fine, even when, in reality, lives were irreparably changed.

The Aftermath

Fast forward to the aftermath, I noticed the collective sentiment of society urging to “move on” from the pandemic without reflection. However, this disregard for our shared trauma had consequences. By 2022, the World Health Organization reported a staggering 25% increase in global anxiety and depression. I wasn't merely observing this trend; I was living it. I felt its repercussions seep into my very being.

Living with Anxiety

The anxiety manifested during my everyday life, particularly in crowded spaces and even amid minor physical ailments. COVID and cancer became intertwined in my psyche, and I grew fearful of what each new symptom could signify. Even in conversations with friends, I felt compelled to mask my struggles behind a facade of “I’m good.”

Coping Mechanisms

Deep down, I rationalized that if I acted like the pre-pandemic me, perhaps I could reclaim her. I accepted invitations I didn’t want, forced smiles at social gatherings, and pushed myself to engage with the world again. I took public transport and attended events, convincing myself that if others were doing it, it must be safe. Even after recovering from a mild case of COVID, the anxiety lingered, a constant reminder of my trauma.

Seeking Help

Realizing I couldn’t suppress my feelings any longer, I began therapy. Sharing my experience week after week helped lighten my emotional burden. I learned that many individuals detach from their thoughts and feelings after trauma – a coping mechanism I found resonated within me. But this led me to question if society had collectively chosen to detach from our pandemic memories to avoid the pain associated with our loss.

Reflections

Today, my life appears similar to that of early 2020, but I occasionally feel my body tense in crowded places, and unpredictable situations still make me uneasy. With newly learned coping mechanisms, I manage these moments while contemplating whether they will ever fully dissipate. Just as cancer has left its mark on my identity, so has COVID; neither can be erased from my life narrative.

Conclusion

I introspect that we are all changed irrevocably by these shared experiences. Our COVID stories matter—be it a child missing plays, a teen learning from home, frontline healthcare workers, or individuals like myself who have battled health crises during these turbulent times. Each story reflects resilience and the truth that none of us were truly alone, even when we felt isolated.

In a world that often pushes us to forget, acknowledging these shared truths might just be the first step toward healing.