I finished chemo and radiation. My hair is growing back. And as my life returns to "normal", I find myself pondering this: can getting cancer be a good thing?

My cancer journey is winding down—I hope. I struggle with what to say, and when it's appropriate to say it. "I had cancer." "I was recently treated for cancer." I am grappling with putting this experience in perspective. I know I am lucky to be in this position. I know I am getting a second chance.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer last August, and had surgery, chemotherapy and radiation since then. I'm done with all that. For the next five years I'll be taking a drug called tamoxifen that will hopefully prevent a recurrence.

I have had more breast exams than I can count and have lost the modesty I used to have when it comes to exposing my breasts. I lost my hair. I was too weak and exhausted from the chemotherapy to get up and walk across the room. At times I thought the fatigue would kill me before the cancer did.

Yes, it was tough. But overall it was doable, and I would do it again because I want to live. I am 48 years and old and a cancer survivor.

The cancer changed me. I always wondered what people meant when they said that and now I know. You wake up every day, thankful for another one. You are thankful for the wind in your face, the birds singing, the smell of roses, and feeling well enough to go to work—all those cliches that Hallmark has patented apply.

The truth is I can't imagine my life now without the cancer. I know I can't go back to who I was before the cancer. Not that I wasn't pretty self-aware, appreciative of life, caring and generous. I was. But life is sweeter now. I gained perspective and clarity because of the cancer experience. I sometimes feel like I gained more than I lost.

But was it a good thing I got cancer? I cannot wrap my head around that one totally. I know that a lot of good things came into my life because of this experience. I saw the goodness, love and compassion of friends, family, colleagues and strangers. I also have a new perspective about what to say to people in crisis. I'm a registered nurse so I think I had some idea about how to deal with illness. But now I have a very crystal clear view on what to say and what not to say. (My advice: Don't ask a lot questions. Listen. Validate that person's feelings: "Yes, you're right. This totally sucks.")

Cancer also taught me that I'm one tough chick. My situation was complicated by other health problems, the main one being multiple sclerosis (MS). I tell people that having MS made dealing with the cancer easier—at least psychologically. It did complicate things medically. But because of the MS I know how to handle fatigue and had a sense that the cancer treatments would knock me down hard. I knew I would need to spend plenty of time on the couch.

Being diagnosed with MS was no picnic, but the cancer diagnosis was a whole different thing. The stigma of cancer and the fact it could kill me (MS rarely kills, but it can be very disabling)—this was a whole new world.

I always thought I was pretty optimistic, which a touch of healthy cynicism. But the cancer showed me I really am more of an optimist than I had realized. Of course I had some down times, and still do, but overall I got through this by being positive, using humor and focusing on what was in the half-full glass.

The worst time was the beginning, when I was adjusting to the diagnosis of cancer but did not have all the facts about my condition. Waiting and not knowing were the most difficult things. Waiting for the results of my surgery—did it spread to my lymph nodes? Would I be completely debilitated by the chemotherapy? Would I survive? Once I knew what I faced, it was much easier.

But was this experience a good thing? Because of cancer I have met incredible people I would never have met: other cancer patients and survivors; medical, nursing, technical professionals; and volunteers at Gilda's Club. (Gilda's is a non-profit support network for people living with cancer and their loved ones. We are fortunate to have one here, a beautiful place located in Latham.)

My life is much richer because of these experiences. I have new friends I never would have met otherwise. Many of my relationships deepened. A handful have grown distant or ended. But I even look at that as positive, because cancer taught me not to waste time and energy, and I was spending energy on people in my life that weren't worthy of it.

For all these reasons, having cancer has been a good thing for me (as long as it doesn't come back!). Perhaps I'll feel different in five years. Who knows? Check back with me then—hopefully I'll still be here.