Cancer anniversary

So it’s been a year. Twelve months since I held that magical lottery ticket in my hand, the numbers already drawn, and yet was still hopeful there had been some terrible mistake. The stupid thing is, I expected my name to be called eventually and now ask myself, was I okay with that happening at 50, 60 or 70 instead of 37? Ask my mom how she felt when she got her cancer suitcase handed to her and if there wasn’t the same anger and fear there. Circumstances different, yes. But the news is never welcome and the whole scene never plays out like you think it will.

And while I feel like I’ve learned a shitload and made some fantastic changes in my life to try to ward off the beast for the rest of my days, there’s ever more to do.

And there are more women going on this trip every day. Four in my immediate circle alone – all ranging in age, all varying in circumstances, but all faced with uneasy decisions, clearcutting treatments and vague promises from cancer land. I think about these women more than myself these days and feel a fierce mother bear thing about what’s been taken away already. The physical stuff we all deal with somehow, but the feeling that something is always resting on our shoulder, to varying degrees, will never go away for any of us. It can colour a good day, slap your face while you’re laughing about something, kick you in the ass when you’re making plans, and trip you up when you dare to imagine there could be a day when the c-dawg will be put to sleep forever.

I keep writing cuz it never leaves me. And I’m not bright enough to deal with it any other way. If I spell it out, it’s less scary and the hands around my neck loosen a little more.

But I live my life. I drink my green juice, eat my veggies, cut back on everything acid and try to fit rebounding and running into every spare second. I’m more patient, more open to people and things and experiences and focus less on retirement and more on the next six months. The mental shift continues and I’m always trying to find ways to balance the immediate with the plan and enjoy the in between as much as possible.

And really – I’m lucky that I even have the opportunity to ruminate about all this stuff. None of us know what’s around the corner. None of us can plan the end. None of us, when it comes down to it, have the luxury of time. We all have cancer inside of us – and I mean that literally, not in some new agey way. The cells are there. They’re waiting to misbehave and form alliances. We know (or at least I’m fuckin’ telling you) that living well – eating whole, staying alkaline, being active, loving & being loved – is the key to warding off all disease, so I’ll keep going as long as this stinkin’ world will have me.