Yesterday, I was on video chat with a friend. She asked me how I was doing emotionally. It snowballed. I smiled through my tears. Suddenly, it occurred to me. What day is it? Is it the 3rd? Oh gosh, it’s my Cancerversary.
I mentioned in another post that this year is a lot of first anniversaries. Basically, last year, over the course of several months, my life changed forever in almost every aspect.
But thing about yesterday is unique. The Cancerversary is not exactly a day to celebrate but it’s not a day to mourn either. Forever moving forward, I will always be a person with cancer. It changes who I am. There is a lot of language out there along the lines of “I have cancer but cancer does not have me.” But the thing is, having cancer HAS changed pretty much everything about the mechanics of my life. It has changed how I think, how I feel, how I operate in the world. Sometimes the reality of this change is not pretty. It is awful. In other ways, it has given me the opportunity to take on new perspectives, become closer to my humanity and have compassion for the world that I could not have gained in any other way.
This morning I was taking a bath. It’s one of the “healthful” things I’ve adopted. There’s no evidence that there is an actual health benefit. Theoretically, increasing one’s body temperature with a bath can aid immune function – mobilizing lymph and blood while mimicking a fever-like state. Don’t take my word that this is true. I saw it on a youtube video by some chiropractor talking about cancer nutrition – he quite possibly could be a nut. BUT it’s a nice idea – it doesn’t hurt so why not?
My son came in with his eyes closed. Mom! I have something to show you! He left the computer on the bathroom floor with the video playing and scuttled away.
It was a TED talk by Emily Levine, a cooky old lady employed by Disney who rejects reality.
I perched there like a beached whale. I didn’t meet all her criteria. I am young and my kids still need me somewhat. But I got her point.
Cancer illustrates a point that has always been there, blatantly obvious, hiding in plain sight – we are mere mortals, our days are numbered only we don’t know how many. Perhaps on average, my life span will be a bit shorter than I expected but can I say that it will be shorter than it was supposed to be? I’m not sure. Or it might not be at all. Who knows.
Lately I’ve been a lot more forgetful. Last week, after being told I might need to start chemo, I decided to take my kid on an impromtu road trip up the coast instead of having him fly to an internship. I forgot my purse four times. I forgot my medication once. We drove back every time. We lost hours of extra time because of my vapid new existence. Chemo brain is a real thing. We stayed at a Motel 6 and were sandwiched between heroin abusers and a 20deep crew of loud construction workers. My son ran around the wharf and vomited in trash cans. We drove 1.5 hours each way in the world’s worst traffic to eat amazing food. I appeased my mother by visiting a Chinese herbalist. All the while listening to the Hidden Brain podcast from NPR. Nonetheless, it was a good time. Quality time with memories that I hope we can laugh about many years from now. A girl can hope.
All I know is that I have right now. Being in the present helps when the the future is unclear. A meditation teacher used to say “Shit, it’s now again” Shit it is.