Since I went public with my cancer diagnosis last summer, I have had people pay me compliments I have not earned and do not deserve.

I’m not a hero, I’m nothing special, and I don’t feel I’m an inspiration to others.

I’m just an ordinary person trying to do his best under terrible circumstances. Like a drowning person, I am struggling to keep my head above water.

The title “hero,” or “heroine,” as the case may be, should be reserved for people like my cousin Leigh Swain, who quietly and with dignity bravely fought not one but two battles with cancer. She was an inspiration to everyone who met her and even though she faced obstacles few of us can imagine, she squared off with cancer on her own terms. If ever there was an angel on earth, it was Leigh Cox Swain.

I should know; when I was diagnosed, Leigh was one of the first people I turned to. She was walking the walk and knew just what to say to lift my spirits and offer me hope on even my darkest days. She did it without fanfare; helping others was second nature to Leigh.

I knew she had received bad news from her doctor shortly before I was scheduled to undergo lung surgery, but in one of her last messages to me she once again offered encouragement and reminded me that God would always be by my side no matter what I faced.

So, on April 7 I had part of my right lung removed. The surgery was much more complicated than the doctor anticipated and a two-hour procedure stretched into seven hours. There were complications afterward, as well, so I was in for a rough few days. I noticed that my parents kept “forgetting” to bring my copy of the Washington Daily News to the hospital, and I was most likely a bit peevish about it; I love reading my newspaper. Finally, after several days, they sat down with me and told me they didn’t want me to see the newspaper and read Leigh’s obituary until I was a little stronger. As it turned out, Leigh passed away the day of my surgery.

She was my cousin and my friend, but more importantly, over the last months of her life, she was one person I could turn to when I was scared, sick or just plain tired of dealing with cancer and all its baggage. She offered tips for easing the side effects of chemo, and she reminded me that prayer would lift my spirits when I felt so terribly alone.

Leigh seemed to have that special touch, and I firmly believe God put her here as an example of His grace. But sadly, he needed another angel in his heavenly choir, and He called her home.

The selfish part of me has sorely needed her over the past couple months. Due to the complications during and after surgery my recovery has been lengthier and more painful than expected. I was dealt another blow when a scan revealed the cancer in my liver has spread further than doctors originally thought. So, a second surgery to remove half my liver was cancelled.

Difficult days followed, to be sure. My faith was sorely tested, and there were days I wanted to give up. Depression set in on me, and there were times I felt I was simply functioning and not fully living life. But I would go back and re-read messages from Leigh and that would renew my fighting spirit.

I’m still in pain, but each day seems to get a little bit better. I have a consultation at Duke Cancer Center on June 5 and that specialist will work with my doctors at Vidant in Greenville to map out the next treatment plan.

When I sat down to write this column, I was torn between telling the bitter, honest truth about my recent experiences or “sugar-coating” them. I chose the former because it’s important to me that other cancer fighters know that they are not alone in facing pain, depression and disappointment. The crucial thing is to work and pray your way through them so that you are not robbed of the joys and celebrations that are still to come.

Kevin Scott Cutler is a kindergarten teaching assistant at Chocowinity Primary School and a frequent contributor to the Washington Daily News.