Cancer Did Not Take My Certificate

Cancer Did Not Take My Certificate

🌼 Date: Tuesday, August 18, 2026

⚡ Energy: Physical test anxiety with a surprise victory lap

💖 Status: ODE physical passed, Fit for Duty passed

😍 Outlook: Sore, but certified

Today I had to go in to renew my bus driver certificate.

Which means it was time for my ODE physical and Fit for Duty test.

Because apparently returning to work after cancer is not just:

“Hello, I am alive. Please give me my keys.”

No.

There are forms.

There are medical questions.

There are physical tests.

There are certificates.

There are doctors.

There are rules.

There is the Oregon Department of Education looking at your age, health conditions, medications, and overall ability to safely drive a school bus full of children.

Which, to be fair, is probably a good thing.

Annoying when you are the one jumping through the hoops?

Yes.

Important?

Also yes.

ODE gets to determine how often we have to renew our bus driving certificates.

It can depend on health conditions like diabetes, heart conditions, sleep apnea, medications we take, and age.

And apparently, once we reach the magical age of fifty-five, we are only eligible for a one-year card.

So since I am now double nickels myself, I am only able to get a one-year card if I pass my physical.

Double nickels.

Fifty-five.

Still tiny.

Still sassy.

Still apparently old enough that ODE would like to keep a closer eye on me.

Rude.

Because of some of the medications I am on, I need to get a note from my doctor explaining why I take them to satisfy the doctor doing my physical.

So that part is still paperwork-in-progress.

Because Cancerland loves nothing more than adding one more document to the scavenger hunt.

But other than that?

I passed my physical.

Passed.

As in, my body showed up and did the thing.

Which felt good.

But the part I had really been worried about was the Fit for Duty test.

Fit for Duty is a series of physical tests developed by ODE to make sure a person is physically capable of safely evacuating students from a bus in the event of an emergency.

In other words:

Can you still do the emergency stuff if everything goes sideways?

Can you move?

Can you lift?

Can you pull?

Can you climb?

Can you help kids get out safely?

It makes sense.

It also scared the hell out of me.

Because I am still rebuilding.

I am still dealing with a radiated left side that does not stretch as much as the right.

I am still working with lymphedema precautions.

I am still trying to get strength and stamina back.

At home, I have been over here feeling proud of myself with my little two-pound hand weights.

Two pounds.

Tiny dumbbells.

Adorable little muscle-building snacks.

And then Fit for Duty looked at me and said:

“Cool. Now lift this thirty-five-pound plate weight over your head.”

Excuse me?

Thirty-five pounds?

Over my head?

Ma’am, I can barely reach the top shelf in my cupboard with my left hand.

My right side is doing okay.

My left side, the radiated side, still has to be babied a little because it just does not stretch the same way anymore.

Radiation may be done, but its little shrink-wrap personality remains.

So naturally, that was the test I had been doubting the most.

Then there was the dead weight pull.

For that one, we have to pull a 125-pound bag twenty-five feet, turn it around, and pull it twenty-five feet back to the starting point.

On carpet.

Because apparently ODE woke up and chose friction.

This test is supposed to mimic pulling a student out of the bus in an emergency.

Which again, makes sense.

But considering I weigh less than 150 pounds myself, I had some questions.

Mostly:

“How is Tiny Tina supposed to drag a 125-pound bag across carpet when she is barely bigger than the bag?”

I was not feeling super confident.

I had doubt.

A lot of doubt.

My brain was trying to be practical, but my anxiety was already writing the failure scene.

What if I cannot lift the weight?

What if my left side will not cooperate?

What if I cannot drag the bag?

What if cancer took too much?

What if this is the thing I cannot get back?

And then…

I passed.

All of it.

Every single part.

The physical.

The Fit for Duty.

The thirty-five-pound overhead lift.

The 125-pound dead weight pull.

All of it.

I passed.

I still almost cannot believe it.

I went in doubting myself and walked out with proof that this body, scarred and tired and rebuilt and still healing, can still do hard things.

Now, let’s be clear.

I will absolutely be sore for a couple of days.

Probably in places I forgot existed.

My body is probably going to file a formal complaint.

My left side may send an angry email.

My two-pound weights are probably sitting at home feeling betrayed.

But honestly?

I do not even care.

Because all I cared about was getting that certificate so I could drive again.

That was the goal.

That was the line I needed to cross.

Not because driving is my dream forever.

Not because I am trying to go backward.

Not because I want to be everything I used to be.

But because I needed to know cancer did not take this from me.

And today, I got that answer.

Cancer took a lot.

It took my original boobs.

It took my hair.

It took my eyelashes.

It took my eyebrows.

It took my energy.

It took my strength for a while.

It took my stamina.

It took my sense of normal.

It took my ability to trust my body without question.

It took months of my life and replaced them with appointments, treatments, side effects, and recovery.

But today proved something.

Cancer did not take my ability to pass that test.

Cancer did not take my certificate.

Cancer did not take the part of me that knows how to show up, grit my teeth, and do the damn thing.

Tiny Tina may be sore.

Tiny Tina may be tired.

Tiny Tina may still be rebuilding.

But Tiny Tina passed.

And that matters.

Today was not just about a bus driver certificate.

It was about reclaiming something.

It was about standing there with my radiated side, my healing body, my nervous little brain, and my two-pound-weight training plan, and doing more than I thought I could.

It was about proving to myself that I am not as broken as I sometimes feel.

I am changed.

Definitely.

I am rebuilding.

Absolutely.

I am not back to factory settings.

We have covered this.

But I am still capable.

Still strong.

Still stubborn.

Still here.

And apparently, still able to drag 125 pounds across carpet when properly motivated.

So yes, I passed.

Now I just need the doctor note for the medication explanation, the paperwork finished, and the official certificate handled.

But the hard physical part?

Done.

Cancer did not get this one.

This one is mine.

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💗 Tina –
One Badass Day at a Time