Yesterday in 2018:

2×4 

I feel like life has taken a 2×4 and beat the crap out of me.

I’m tired.

Today in 2018:

Desperation

I’m starting to think the deep desperate desire to get out of this house has something to do with cancer and this past year. 

I have teared up so many times today as I’ve looked around to see just how much more has to be done before we can get it on the market and get out. It’s everything that’s in the way of what I’m so desperate for. 

The desperation is so intense………..

It’s also interesting to note that the sweet memories of the past 8 years are so clouded by the hardness of the past 1. 

I’m just gonna let that all be what it is. 

Yesterday in 2019:

Only a Few More Hours

Tonight wraps up another August. 

August has always been a difficult month for me. Once we celebrate Haleigh’s birthday early in the month, the rest feels ROUGH….I loathe the heat of summer, it feels like the longest month of the year because September through December is my most favorite time of the year, it’s always busy and the new routines of new school years are always challenging to get used to, it’s an emotional month with the kids because of said new routines and said new school years…

In enters August 2017…now also coloring August as the “I’m sorry to have to inform you that you have cancer” month. And it was August 2017 that sent me into the stormiest sea of my life, uncertain if I would ever survive. 

August, I’m glad you’re almost over and I’m glad that my favorite time of the year officially starts in a few hours. And while these next few months still hold many difficult anniversary dates, I am grateful I have made it to another September.  

Today in 2019:

Frustration and Gratitude

I’ve been very contemplative today…I’ve been quiet and haven’t had too much to say. My mind is full…

I start a new job in 2 days. I’m anxious. And hopeful. But I remember writing recently that the only known is the unknown and 2 days is 2 days away, so I’ll let that stay there so I can live here.

I’m considering being done with writing every day… 2 years ago on September 2, I started this. I’ve written every day since. For two years straight. There is a part of me that thinks it’s time to be done. It’s time to find new ways to process and capture the learnings of my experiences. It’s been suggested to me to publish this collection of daily writings…am I ready to do that? There is a part of me that isn’t ready to be done, though….there is a part of me that thinks there is still much to experience. How will I live changed when I have created change? How will it feel to have my tattoo completed? Will I have another surgery before the end of the year? How does survivorship look in this new season? 

I’ll make that decision tomorrow. Again, I’m not there yet. I’m still here. 

My spirit feels low today. Is it just this time of year? I can close my eyes and feel the feelings, smell the smells, hear the sounds and experience the heart-wrenching pain of cancer. It’s so close. So close. 

I sometimes get too far ahead of myself and wonder what the meaning is of all of this. Am I going to help others in cancer? Am I going to live to 100 and how weird it will be that this cancer chapter will be 60 years in the past? What will THAT feel like? And then again, I’m reminded that I don’t have to know. And today’s purpose is to live deeply and invest deeply…in TODAY. 

And, I’m tired. And I’m not feeling well. And I’m claustrophobic in my own skin.

I hold in tension a frustration and a gratitude. A frustration that I am surviving cancer because surviving it is hard and heaven would be glorious….and a gratitude that I am surviving cancer because surviving it is a most rich and transformative gift. 

No Post for 8/31/20

Today in 2020:

I Am Cancer*

*Now, before you totally cancel me for saying that (because it’s weird, I know), I want to explain. First, I tend to say things that some people won’t say, can’t admit or simply don’t see the same way and I am fully okay with each perspective.

Next though, in my experience, here is why I say that: When I was diagnosed, many people, well intended, told me, “You’re not cancer. You’ll beat this,” or “You have cancer but cancer doesn’t have you.” I completely get the sentiments and there are some important truths in them. And I appreciate the encouragement because, well, cancer really sucks…early on and 3 years in. But here is the 3-years-in reality that also holds some important truths: cancer invades more than cells. And what is even more complex than that: it’s acceptable to admit that it does.

I am okay with saying, “I am cancer,” because it walks with me everywhere I go. I am not without it, just as I’m not without my body, my heart, my spirit. I even wrote about The Companionship of Cancer last year. It has fundamentally changed me and as the both+and person that I am, I can say that I both like parts of what has been changed so much so that I want to keep those things changed (which would require me to admit the infiltration of cancer on my life) and be honest about the ugly, confused mess that it has left behind (….requiring me to admit the infiltration of cancer on my life). See what I did there?

I am cancer because while I currently sit with a lab report on my lap that says, “no evidence of disease,” (which has come at an incredibly high cost) that doesn’t mean the book is closed, there is more to be written with the story. 

I am cancer because trauma isn’t something to “move on” from as it has forever scars—both tragic and meaningful—and moving on would mean moving on from both. 

I am cancer because I don’t get to “be fully restored.” That is actually reserved only for heaven.

So as I sit here today, in the midst of the torrent of anniversaries that bog down my calendar and my soul, I am offered the opportunity to accept, more and more with each passing day, the identity transformation of cancer. And that it’s okay to accept that.