Perspective

Angels come in all forms. I'm surrounded by them every day. Family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, even people I've never met. This time my angel was called Jeannie. Jeannie and I have known each for years. She's always been kind, amazing, strong, inspirational, encouraging, intelligent, hilarious, incredibly fun and became one of my dearest friends very quickly many years ago. Now, during the most difficult time of my life, she scooped me up and flew me down to Neverland (Key West) to rejuvenate in between chemotherapy treatments. She told me that if I needed anything, that she would handle it. If I needed nurse care, special foods, a wheelchair, anything at all. I felt very safe going. Even in my fragile state. I wasn't sure how this would go. I didn't know if I would be strong enough to do this, but I sure as hell was going to try!

Lately I've been pushing myself to try and become a member of society again. I have been rewarded every time, even if I've had to struggle to be there. So I encourage myself to interact with normality. It's funny what becomes normal when your life is upside down. Perspective is a great teacher. If you look at things from a different vantage point, you see things differently. For instance, I would've never thought to enter a tattoo contest at a bar. Much less get up on stage at a bar and strip down to a bikini to show it off. This is definitely not my m.o., but for some reason it felt perfectly normal at the time. I've let go of what "normal behavior" is. And it feels good. For some reason, doing something that I would've never done before felt like it was something that I should do. I always like adventure, but this wasn't that. It was different and I've learned that I like exploring something that makes me laugh. Even if it means doing something unconventional. And I'll be damned if I didn't end up sharing the "best female tattoo" trophy with my bestie who drove down to hang with us for a couple days. An instant reward for putting myself out there. When normal is wondering if you're going to make it through the day without needing a nap, puking, or fainting, who gives a damn about if you enter a tattoo contest. It was fun. It helps me to forget, even if just for a short while, that cancer is pervading my life. So I guess that means laughing at myself while trying something different is so incredibly worth it.

This trip to Neverland was bittersweet and unlike any trip I'd ever had on any other visits

. I couldn't ride a bicycle, I didn't have the energy. I couldn't kayak. I had to take naps. I was very sensitive to the heat and sun. I wasn't able to do everything I love to do there. But there is a battle that goes on constantly between my brain and my body. I am constantly thinking that I can do more than my body will allow. I have a fair amount of good hours. Then there's always a moment when my body says,"No more!" And I faint, or I get sick and lose all the energy I thought I had. This is when the frustration hits and the anger and the tears come. When that dirty bitch, cancer, reminds me it's still at the party. 

I was sick and bedridden for an entire night and day, unable to stand. Every time I tried, I fell down. At one point in the middle of the night during one of my many bathroom, get sick moments, I just laid my head on the cold tile floor and passed out. I must've made my way back to bed at some point since I woke up there. It was bad. One of the worst since I got out of the hospital the second time. Jeannie nursed me back to some semblance of ok, then took me to get IV fluids. That did the trick. There are moments in life that are so difficult that you don't know how to make it through. Then an angel comes along and helps you do it. In a way it was a reminder of what was out of reach, but also what there was to look forward to. Right now I can't have the life I yearn for so desperately. I dream about the simple things I want. Like riding a bicycle or laying out in the sun. I think about being able to walk Jude along the beltline or taking her to the dog park for a few hours so I can run and play with her like we used to. I sit and remember what it was like to live on my own and have my life. It hasn't really been that long, 3 1/2 months, but it feels like a lifetime ago. I know I'll have it back one day. I just need to keep remembering.

I can't help but feel as if I'm letting go of everything I've known as my life and waiting for the new me to emerge. Maybe this crazy thing that's happening has a greater purpose that I haven't figured out yet. There is a strange sense of curiosity and peace that resides within me along with the frustration and pain. Because even with all of the things that I can't do, there are things that I still can. And more. I can still laugh and love, I can appreciate a beautiful sunset, I can act completely ridiculous and share happiness. I can feel the sand in my toes and the saltwater on my skin. I can listen to music, acknowledge it's uniqueness, and feel it in my soul. These things stay stable within me. This life test that I'm enduring feels like I'm evolving and growing. Growth is change, growth can be painful. Maybe this is my time and this is my chrysalis stage. And maybe in some inscrutable way I'll emerge from this beautiful and strange and more me than I've ever been.

"Nothing is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles."  ~Charlie Chaplin

Strong

Life isn't fair. If someone told you that it is, they were either lying to you, trying to protect you, or don't have a clue about reality. What is fair? It means honest, just, straightforward. Fair is the notion that you are owed something simply because you exist. Because it is the right thing. Unfortunately, that isn't always the case. And what about reality? Reality has its way. Sometimes difficult, sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes so uplifting you can't help but spill happy tears. But feeling it is what makes life incredible. Knowing that you can honestly feel what is happening in your life gives you true appreciation for living it. It seems so strange that feeling such painful and difficult moments can also make you feel the exact opposite. I am not a pessimist, but I allow myself the deep, dark moments. For I know there is beauty beyond it. That feeling this means that the systematic poisoning of my body is somehow working.

Sometimes it's just too hard to stop the tears. So I let them fall. Sometimes the nausea and vomiting takes over. And the frustration. The inability to cope turns into tears streaming down my face. If I could only turn it off and know that is all going to be ok. But sometimes it's so difficult it breaks my heart over and over again. Sometimes the strength it takes is so far out of sight that my sorrow covers me like a blanket. I can do nothing but surrender. I know I can make it through, but I don't know how to not succumb to the emotion. I pray for strength. I pray for hope. I cry through the pain. Curled up into myself waiting for the next blue sky. Begging for release from this reality of mine.

I struggle with every moment to remember my identity. Who am I? Am I my disease? When can I find who I am or what I was? These dark moments are not my soul. They are part of my fight. They are not me. They are this horrid dance with reality.

"But you don't look sick".  I hear it a lot. Though I feel it through my very soul. It aches throughout my entire being. There are times that all I can do to push myself through is to cry and wipe my own tears. To hide my lowest moments so I don't hurt the ones I love. Day after day, becomes month after month. When will it end? Strength and weakness intertwine and become each other. And I wait. And I fight.  And I struggle with this beast.

Then I think about one of my dearest and oldest friends and her daughter who is also fighting for her life. Four years old with a rare autoimmune disease, on daily dialysis, and that needs a kidney transplant. Who doesn't have the maturity to understand what's happening to her. Her entire family is fighting with her. And I think to myself, if she can do it, then I can do it.

I've learned to live for the good moments. There are times when I feel mostly ok. When I have a huge smile on my face and there is love all around me. A message from my friends and family. Having lunch or having a couple of hours of music while I'm out. Dressing in costume with my dear friend who refuses to miss one chemotherapy with me. These times are incredible and beautiful. This is when I know that every difficult moment is worth it. I try to create these moments and share them whenever possible, because I'm not the only one going through this. Though I wish that no one else would ever have to.

I am constantly inspired by the love I'm surrounded with. The people I speak to and hear from. They remind me that who I am is not lost. They remember and I can see that there will be a life after this. I just need to be strong enough to make it through the next three to nine months of intensive chemotherapy. It may be more. I get encouragement from cancer survivors. They've been through this and push me to  keep going. My brother who always checks on me.  My incredible parents who have devoted themselves to me and my existence right now.  They care for me when I can't. Taking me to chemo and every other appointment that goes with my treatment. They are going through this too.

And then I heard the news. This fight is working. This trial by fire. My most recent PET scan showed progress. My cancer is beginning to recede. A little bit from everywhere. This is my patch of blue sky after 3 months of visits to hell. I'm so cautious to accept this news. It's hard to believe after hearing so much bad. But I'll take it. And I'll run with it.  And I'll keep going. Not long after I heard my news, my sweet friend's daughter found a kidney donor. They're planning the surgery now. Gorgeous little Lyla is getting her kidney from a beautiful soul.

So there is good after the pain. Sometimes in the hardest of times, a little sun shines through and reminds you of how beautiful this world can be. That the fight is worth it.

No, life isn't fair. What a myth to think it is. Though it is beautiful.

 And I'll take beautiful over fair.  All day long.

"You never know how strong you are until strong is the only choice you have." Bob Marley