When my doctor told me the results of all the tests, I was sure my illness was fatal and certain that I was going to die. One of my first 1 was that I would be leaving behind me so much that was unfinished. I told my friends that the 2 on my tombstone should read: "Grade of Incomplete." That 3 my life, and I regretted my delays and excuses. I wished that I had more time to do it all over again the right way. But deep inside I felt such a wish was useless. I imagined no recourse but to spend my remaining months in a gradual state of 4 , too weak, too sick and too absorbed in my dying to do much else. I cried a lot and felt very sorry for myself.
After the operation to remove the tumor, my surgeon told me that I was cured. At first, I didn"t believe him. I thought he was humouring me, stringing me alone because he wanted me to be happy in my final months. 5 , though, I began to believe that he was telling me the truth and that I did indeed have a life ahead of me. Because I didn"t want my 6 simply to become a bad memory, I started to change the way I ran my life. I finished the photography project that summer. Then I applied for matriculation at my local college in the fall. Within a year I had chosen 7 I"m still working on getting that degree. Most important of all, my children and I took that 8 we"d always talked about. We took another one in the winter, too. At the end of five years I realized that I had rebuilt my life"s patterns. And now each day is more fulfilling than 9 That"s something I couldn"t say before the day that cancer 10 .