Still afraid of cancer

I feel so fucking selfish saying this during Covid when EVERYONE is in danger, but sometimes I can't stop being afraid of cancer. I am so so so so so so so so so SO grateful to be in remission and to have gotten a life-saving transplant, and then I feel guilt about all those who didn't make it, and I wonder why I'm still alive, but then I think that could all change in an instant anyway (I used to feel guilty all the time before I relapsed), so then I'm scared again instead of feeling guilty, which isn't much better, and it's just a back & forth of ugh. And I was just reading the Facebook of someone who lost their wife to cancer last year and looking at the photos I was immediately reminded of my mother but at the same time, picturing myself in her position and thinking about my own mortality, yet also feeling guilty about being alive while my mom (and other people) aren't, while also missing her deeply. It's just such a mess of complicated feelings that there aren't any words for, except this word salad I just typed out.