“You should do a cancer blog, Aunt Paula,” Addie exclaimed as I was attempting to explain my blog to her.
“Well,” I gulped, searching for the words that would appropriately answer such a statement. “It would be boring as I’m actually really fortunate,” I meekly responded.
It’s Friday evening; black Friday has been in full swing for more than a few hours. And here I sit, with the utter knowledge that I should be elated, so thankful, and operating in a state of complete, joyous gratitude. But, that’s not how I’m feeling.
Don’t get me wrong, I do give thanks. I don’t talk about it much but ~ 14 months ago I was diagnosed with cancer. Today, I sit here typing, basking in the glory of being in remission for more than 5 months. From start to finish, this endometrial cancer messed with about 10 months of my life. Some people give birth; others get diagnosed with and treated for/cured of cancer in that time frame. It’ been quite the ride.
But throughout my ordeal, I never faltered from being a person…a person irked at having to organize and do the heavy lifting of a Thanksgiving away; a person perturbed that for the second time today she had to clean the kitchen from top to bottom knowing that in less than 24 hours she would be faced with cleaning and closing down the wonderful cabin she’s been residing in for the past week, or a person who should be rejoicing in the fact that she now sits here in front of a fire, in the quiet, wee hours of the morning – cancer free– enjoying the remaining hours of her Thanksgiving weekend.
In early November 2017 I had a hysterectomy which was to cure me of the cancer I had been diagnosed with less than 4 weeks earlier. Two weeks later, a few days before arriving at this fantastic cabin for Thanksgiving 2018, I was advised that the cancer had spread and was now classified as stage 3. Today, I type this in the glow of a fire, smiling at the fact that I am in remission.
I reflect upon all those inspirational sayings and poems about feet walking in the sand, or sob, sob, sob “when you’re 96 you’ll look back, glad that your hands were busyed with the work of a crazy person” or, better yet, “while you were alone, I carried you,” blah, blah blah…And I want to scream. This is not how it’s supposed to be (‘Suck it people,’ I bellow to myself, in my head; “just because I have cancer, doesn’t’ mean it’s my last days!!”).
While I sit here with conflicted emotions, at the end of the day, I’m happy – happy that I’m in remission, happy that I was able to treat my brother and his kids to a great weekend with the goats, and thrilled that I’m even able to enjoy such an evening.
As we look toward the beginning of Christmas, I want to thank you for listening; wish you safe travels and, of course, as always, bon appetite..