Writing About Cancer

I was just reading a couple of articles under the heading: "Journalists question the ethics of cancer-of fighting it, and of blogging about it".  The catalyst of this examination seemed to be a Connecticut woman, Lisa Bonchek Adams, who has stage 4 breast cancer and three children. I find her blog to be well-written and articulate. I challenge you to read her welcome page and not feel the weight of her existence. Grace under fire. <http://lisabadams.com/> If you only have time to read one post, go directly to The stupid things people say to people with cancer. All of us who live in the company of cancer will appreciate it. <http://lisabadams.com/2013/02/27/the-stupid-things-people-say-to-people-with-cancertheir-families/>

To the writers who think her honesty is inappropriate, I am blowing a big, loud raspberry your way. I'm not saying you can't enjoy all the superficial crap that appears on your computer screen, but don't be a hater when it comes to another human being sharing one of the most raw and terrible experiences life can throw at you. (And, yes, I know the list is long) I can tell you from experience that, when you are diagnosed with cancer, the first thing you do is read about it. But the next thing is when you search out other people who are going through the same thing. You want stories. You want help being brave. And you want hope. All of that is out there in someone's personal writing where they put their own heartbreak down in words. When it happens to you, you'll be grateful.

In the meantime, if you don't want to read blogs that are written about cancer, don't. However, if you do want to read a good article on the subject, try "Tweeting Cancer" by Meghan O'Rourke.

< http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/culture/2014/01/tweeting-cancer.html>

Carry On

Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice but to carry on.
Stephen Stills


This could be my mantra. I've always been a little disappointed I never got to be a competitive trail and endurance rider, but life compensated me by requiring other types of endurance. The thyroid cancer was a pain in the ass, destroying my attention span and draining my energy every time I had to go hypothyroid for a scan. I had teenagers and certainly could have made use of some brain cells at the time. Before a scan, I'd have to go off of my Synthroid for as long as it took to become depleted of the thyroid hormones. Not chemo awful, but awful enough. A few years down the road, a wonderful drug, Thyrogen came on the market. I could take a giant pill and be artificially thrown into hypothyroidism without the fuss and muss of a lengthy recovery period from the old fashioned method. No more hair stubble or long periods of staring at a wall wondering what it was. It would have been nice if Thyrogen had been available a few years sooner, but it still saved me a lot of brainless months.

Four years ago, a surgeon was amusing herself at my expense, trying to remove a cyst with a robotic device. The last thing she said to me was that I'd be home sleeping in my own bed that night. I found the thought to be very comforting. With the surprise discovery of cancer on one of my ovaries, another round of enduring began. No teenagers to worry about this time, but it was a lot bigger hole to climb out of this time. The next few months were miserable. I endured. My family and friends endured. We all carried on. The queen would be proud of us.

If you're not happy, and not doing something about it, you're making a big mistake. Life can't be entirely about personal gratification, but you can try to achieve some sort of a balance between the business side of life while still attending to your own needs. You never know if or when you'll be blindsided by something requiring endurance. Be prepared to carry on. It's always good advice.

This has nothing to do with the post, but I like the photo.

We're Not in Kansas Any More

Today was a regular Saturday, but no two days are ever the same around here so maybe every day defies the definition of regular. As people both near and far try to grasp the reality of the murders that occurred last Friday, (in the sanctity of an elementary school, no less), we are all trying to remember what normal is. Our national concept of normal has once again been shattered but, sadly, each individual has to come to that realization on their own. Mankind is supposed to be moving toward the light, but our feet are still mired in darkness.

So I'll tell you what I did yesterday evening and today. I watched a nonsense movie (Rock of Ages) with a friend then, up way past my bedtime, slept for a while. I woke up, read the paper, wrote, went grocery shopping, and gassed up my car. Ordinary stuff. I spent some time getting a few holiday gifts online which was the hardest work I did today, then I made Green Chile Stew and ate it with some nice flour tortillas. Now I'm doing laundry and plan to watch another nonsense movie. (Dark Shadows) That's how I put one foot in front of the other. Going through the motions is all you can humanly do, whether you have been laid off from work, been diagnosed with cancer, or have lost a loved one. Time is the healer, and you don't ever truly get back to normal because normal is only a facade.

When I had cancer for the second time, (Not the same cancer twice. I got to try out a brand new cancer) I got incredibly tired of being told I had to create a new normal for myself. Four years later, the "new normal" expression still drives me crazy. I say fuck that little ditty. Don't talk to someone with cancer by using idiot cliches unless you want me coming at you with my crazy face on.

Tomorrow is another day we can try to shape to our liking while fending off asteroids of unpredictability. Good luck to each and every one of us.