Alex has been back in town for four days and already it feels like a month. She arrived home safely with a great big smile, a suitcase full of dirty laundry, and as I was to discover Saturday morning, a head full of lice. So in the whirl wind of back to school and back in town and back to our routine of life, we also battled bugs.
Yesterday marked the first day of Alex's secondary school career. It marked her first day of middle school. The first official day of adolescent torture and Alex bounded in with a huge smile plastered on her face. It also marked three and half years since my last cancer treatment. Three and half years of a clean bill of health. Ten years since I was first diagnosed. As I made the rounds from blood tests to chest x-rays to brain MRIs I help but wonder how all of this came to seem so normal. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all just a dream - not in the sense that this is something I always wanted to happen, but in the literal, wake-up-in-the-morning, what-the-hell-was-that-all-about? -meaning of the word. When did things start to work out for the best?
Maybe its because I'm a fairly short sighted kind of person, but I never dreamed, ten years ago yesterday as I was being rushed into emergency surgery that I would be old friends with my oncologist. When I was running around as a student of my old middle school, the idea that a child of mine would one day be a student there never entered my universe. And when I look back at the whole of my short messy life with all its wrong turns and failures and scenes I wish I could rewrite, I can't help but think of that brand new middle schooler and know that I could not possible regret one link in the chain of events that lead to her existence.
When I was young I took note that most brilliant people seemed to be alcoholic or suicidal or both, and I absorbed the notion that the true sign of brilliant is to be seriously screwed up. The true poet is haunted by livid demons, brave, doomed, terribly wounded, and if one was (as I was at 11) relatively unscratched, you concealed this and learned to impersonate doom.
Alex isn't like that at all. In her natural state she is dramatically and openly full of childhood wonder and excitement. Most people want to be around those who smile and are Fun To Be With, but its hard for me to instinctively know what to do with this kind of person. The hardest lesson I have had to learn is to love life. Alex already knows this. She is happy. She smiles. That may be better for humanity than to be brilliant and troubled.
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 24
Monday, March 15
So Health Care...
So the health care debate is coming to a vote this week (I think); heated debate about this bill, in Washington DC and throughout the Unites States of America means that we won't be hearing about much else for the foreseeable future.
Part of me feels like I should have written about this topic long ago. I should have said something on this blog to declare my position on the subject. I should have said something about the fact that I don't see health care as a political issue, its a moral issue. I am a Christian after all and doesn't the bible say things like...
I also have a personal stack in this fight. You see, I'm an American citizen. I pay taxes. And guess what? I use the health care system. Just the other day I opened a medical bill for a whooping $1500. I guess I shouldn't have splurged on that MRI in January.
But I have kept quiet. I tend not to go into these things too much because of where I live and who my family is. I live in the South. In the land of "We don't need you! I'm just fine on my own!" And every time I walk into my parent's house they are watching those fair and balanced sages on Fox News. So I just keep my thoughts to myself. Its much safer that way.
It seems we are at a point in this country were no matter how much one tries to explain and appeal to reason, no matter how much and how often one might point out that other countries have solved this problem, the hole we are digging ourselves into is just going to keep getting deeper. This has nothing to do with reason or evidence. Contrary to what many might say the people opposed to reform are not blind idiots. This is tribal war. One can never overstate the power of resentment in American politics.
Part of me feels like I should have written about this topic long ago. I should have said something on this blog to declare my position on the subject. I should have said something about the fact that I don't see health care as a political issue, its a moral issue. I am a Christian after all and doesn't the bible say things like...
34"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed
by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the
creation of the world. 35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat,
I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you
invited me in, 36I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you
looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
37"Then
the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you,
or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and
invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or
in prison and go to visit you?'40"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of
the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'
I also have a personal stack in this fight. You see, I'm an American citizen. I pay taxes. And guess what? I use the health care system. Just the other day I opened a medical bill for a whooping $1500. I guess I shouldn't have splurged on that MRI in January.
But I have kept quiet. I tend not to go into these things too much because of where I live and who my family is. I live in the South. In the land of "We don't need you! I'm just fine on my own!" And every time I walk into my parent's house they are watching those fair and balanced sages on Fox News. So I just keep my thoughts to myself. Its much safer that way.
It seems we are at a point in this country were no matter how much one tries to explain and appeal to reason, no matter how much and how often one might point out that other countries have solved this problem, the hole we are digging ourselves into is just going to keep getting deeper. This has nothing to do with reason or evidence. Contrary to what many might say the people opposed to reform are not blind idiots. This is tribal war. One can never overstate the power of resentment in American politics.
Wednesday, March 3
In Memory of Becky
Flower and Garden FestivalWalt Disney World, Epcot
Katy, 2006
A friend of mine pasted away this week. Becky was a wonderful spirit. I want to tell you a fun story about her, that captures her essences. Its hard to find one though. Not because there aren't many, but when I tell them, they don't seem right. I can pass on her words, but not her tone of voice, her facial expressions.
I have told her time and again that she saved my life. Really, she did. The third time my cancer returned the blood counts were up, my symptoms were starting to return, but for all the tests and scans the doctors were having a hard time finding the tumor. The one day at lunch, Becky looked at me.
What's wrong? You look like you have a headache.
I do.
Call your doctor and tell him.
Yeah, okay.
I mean it.
Yeah.
I went back to work and didn't call my doctor. I worked with Becky's sister, Christy at the time. An hour after lunch Becky called to see what the doctor had said. When I told her I had not called yet she called Christy.
Go stand in front of her desk until she calls.
Christy did. I did. The intern was kind of impertinent.
We already did a scan of your brain.
I know, I'm just passing on the information. Do with it what you will.
They did another scan, and another and found a nickel sized spot on my brain.
There are other stories that are funnier. Really if you knew Becky, if her heard her talking through all of that, this story, as dramic as it sounds, is really just plan funny. I had a fit of uncontrolable laughter when they told me I had a brain tumor because of Becky. With Becky around it was impossible not to know that everything was just going to work out for the best. That no matter what, it would all be okay. And really, eventhough that incredible spark in her eyes has left, I can't help but feel like everything has worked out for the best. Its all going to be okay.
Thursday, January 21
Time Off of Life
I went to MD Anderson last week for the bi-annual neurological examine, hoping my doctor would send me off to a hospital, one of those really nice ones by the ocean with a sunny terrace where you sit in your bathrobe while you read and kind nurses bring you fresh orange juice. The diagnosis would be nervous exhaustion, I guess. People like Doris Day and Rita Hayworth and Natalie Wood were once hospitalized for nervous exhaustion, and so I've always considered it a glamorous ailment, but what are the symptoms? My medical dictionary doesn't say. Probably they would include (1) extreme want of sleep, (2) palpitations, (3) infuriating ex boyfriends, and (4) piteous whimpering, things like "I'm-a waiting for you, Mama" or "I kin hear 'em singing!"
I recall heroes in Victorian novels who collapsed from nervous exhaustion, and they were carried pale and trembling to bed where they lay for a few days and then decided to quit the bank job, break off the engagement to Daphne, and build a cabin of clay and and write poems.
But that's not what I want. I just want some time off of life. My doctor is a serious neurosurgeon so he's not up on nervous exhaustion. He asked me how I was and I said (as I was brought up to say), "Fine." He then proceeded to examine me, look over my medical history, and to note my complaints - headaches, fatigue, inability to remember things I have done or things I'm suppose to do. Fatigue? Try cutting down on stress and getting more sleep. Memory loss? Forget about it. Headaches? I've already had my head examined.
In an MRI machine. You lie on a narrow trough which is retracted into a massive cyclotron where you lie perfectly still for an hour in a space exactly the size of Grandpa's coffin, if you are claustrophobic, this will send you right up the wall. You expect to hear Igor say in his adenoidal voice, "I have tied her down, Master. Shall I throw the switch?" The machine bangs and whirrs and you lie there in your coffin awaiting the Last Judgment, and the man running the experiment says on the intercom, "You're doing a great job." A great job of playing dead.
I couldn't bring myself to tell the doctor, "My nerves are shot and I want to go to a hospital for three days. One with a terrace and fresh orange juice." I thought he might tell me to get a grip. Or lessen my stress and get more sleep. The truth is that there are only a few hospitals left that still treat nervous exhaustion and I suspect they're all in Los Angeles and you must have a publicist.
The longing for hospitalization is a lovely fantasy, but the reality is that hospitals are dangerous places. People get sick there. Weird bacteria, zonked-out interns, the occasional serial killer. And people you never cared for descend on you bearing inferior chocolates and wilted zinnias and cheap balloons that say, "Happiness Is Knowing You Are Loved." They camp at your bedside for hours reminiscing about all the cancer victims they used to know. And worst of all, my daughter would not find a hospital amusing and so she would visit me for the minimum-daily-required minutes and wave goodbye and skip out the door. So I just took a deep breath and came back to the living.
When you have a daughter who is ten, you must schedule your collapses from nervous exhaustion. She has a full schedule of karate lessons and school and church activities, and we're going to Disney World in June, so it appears that July is my first opportunity to fall apart. I am looking forward to it. We have lots of sun at home, and I can sit there in my bathrobe and whimper to my heart's content.
I recall heroes in Victorian novels who collapsed from nervous exhaustion, and they were carried pale and trembling to bed where they lay for a few days and then decided to quit the bank job, break off the engagement to Daphne, and build a cabin of clay and and write poems.
But that's not what I want. I just want some time off of life. My doctor is a serious neurosurgeon so he's not up on nervous exhaustion. He asked me how I was and I said (as I was brought up to say), "Fine." He then proceeded to examine me, look over my medical history, and to note my complaints - headaches, fatigue, inability to remember things I have done or things I'm suppose to do. Fatigue? Try cutting down on stress and getting more sleep. Memory loss? Forget about it. Headaches? I've already had my head examined.
In an MRI machine. You lie on a narrow trough which is retracted into a massive cyclotron where you lie perfectly still for an hour in a space exactly the size of Grandpa's coffin, if you are claustrophobic, this will send you right up the wall. You expect to hear Igor say in his adenoidal voice, "I have tied her down, Master. Shall I throw the switch?" The machine bangs and whirrs and you lie there in your coffin awaiting the Last Judgment, and the man running the experiment says on the intercom, "You're doing a great job." A great job of playing dead.
I couldn't bring myself to tell the doctor, "My nerves are shot and I want to go to a hospital for three days. One with a terrace and fresh orange juice." I thought he might tell me to get a grip. Or lessen my stress and get more sleep. The truth is that there are only a few hospitals left that still treat nervous exhaustion and I suspect they're all in Los Angeles and you must have a publicist.
The longing for hospitalization is a lovely fantasy, but the reality is that hospitals are dangerous places. People get sick there. Weird bacteria, zonked-out interns, the occasional serial killer. And people you never cared for descend on you bearing inferior chocolates and wilted zinnias and cheap balloons that say, "Happiness Is Knowing You Are Loved." They camp at your bedside for hours reminiscing about all the cancer victims they used to know. And worst of all, my daughter would not find a hospital amusing and so she would visit me for the minimum-daily-required minutes and wave goodbye and skip out the door. So I just took a deep breath and came back to the living.
When you have a daughter who is ten, you must schedule your collapses from nervous exhaustion. She has a full schedule of karate lessons and school and church activities, and we're going to Disney World in June, so it appears that July is my first opportunity to fall apart. I am looking forward to it. We have lots of sun at home, and I can sit there in my bathrobe and whimper to my heart's content.
Wednesday, October 14
Is Positive Thinking Positive?
After being pissed off yesterday at some one's random act of kindness, I started to think that maybe I was the problem. Yes, I was annoyed, but shouldn't I just stop and look at the positive side of things?
Then I turned on Democracy Now! as I drove to pick up Alex from Karate. Barbara Ehrenreich, author of “Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America” was being interviewed. She spoke as a breast cancer survivor about the odd culture of perverted optimism that she found when she was first diagnosed. In her book she writes, “In the most extreme characterization, breast cancer is not a problem at all, not even an annoyance—it is a ‘gift,’ deserving of the most heartfelt gratitude.” That assessment is so freakishly true I had to hear more.
Ehrenreich went on to explain how the positive thinking cult first became pervasive in the 1980s when lots of people were getting laid off, and it never really left us. She talks about the interviews we have all seen recently with people who have lost their jobs saying they are "staying positive" and Ehrenreich asks the obvious, but taboo question, "WHY?" why when your world is crashing in around you must you insist on being positive?
Of course that doesn't mean that when faced with a crisis you have to fall into agony and despair as our constant mood for life, but why doesn't culture allow us to acknowledge that despair exists? Why aren't we allowed to grieve when we find our lives shattered? How can anyone expect to grow as a human we have denied the marrow of our existence?
If you want to hear the whole interview, and not just my musings, you can find it here.
Then I turned on Democracy Now! as I drove to pick up Alex from Karate. Barbara Ehrenreich, author of “Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America” was being interviewed. She spoke as a breast cancer survivor about the odd culture of perverted optimism that she found when she was first diagnosed. In her book she writes, “In the most extreme characterization, breast cancer is not a problem at all, not even an annoyance—it is a ‘gift,’ deserving of the most heartfelt gratitude.” That assessment is so freakishly true I had to hear more.
Ehrenreich went on to explain how the positive thinking cult first became pervasive in the 1980s when lots of people were getting laid off, and it never really left us. She talks about the interviews we have all seen recently with people who have lost their jobs saying they are "staying positive" and Ehrenreich asks the obvious, but taboo question, "WHY?" why when your world is crashing in around you must you insist on being positive?
Of course that doesn't mean that when faced with a crisis you have to fall into agony and despair as our constant mood for life, but why doesn't culture allow us to acknowledge that despair exists? Why aren't we allowed to grieve when we find our lives shattered? How can anyone expect to grow as a human we have denied the marrow of our existence?
If you want to hear the whole interview, and not just my musings, you can find it here.
Tuesday, July 21
You're Gonna Make it After All...
See this lovely picture of Mary Tyler Moore concurring the big city and triumphantly tossing her hat into the air in celebration of her success? I think this is the mental picture I had in my head when I first got my job working for a big law firm in a really tall building downtown. Young, single girl out taking on the world one day at a time.Things have deteriorated since then.
Today I got a reminder that I have a doctor's appointment coming up. My first thought? "YES! Half day off of work!" What does that say about the level of enthusiasm I have for my job? How crap does a place have to be for a person to say, "I would rather be siting in the Cancer Center, waiting to have my blood drawn", and actually mean it?
Monday, April 13
AutomatEdward Hopper, 1927
There is a lot to be said for facing reality. So many problems are caused by people who go about their lives, living in a constant state of delusion. These people tend to bug the crap out of me. They either don't see the immediate danger waving its arms right in front of them, screaming their name at the top of its lungs, or they just pretend not to get it. There is a lot to be said for people who don't get it. They haven't been hurt enough to identify hurt before it happens. They haven't been sick enough to take every cough, every head ace too seriously. They haven't seen enough people die to believe a doctor who tells them death is going to pay them a visit.
And while it is handy to see that danger is coming so that you can take the next available exit, I liked things better when we were pretending that my friend was not about to die. I liked how I felt when I woke up this morning. Before I spoke with my friend who confided that it all just kind of hit her last night. This was really it. I don't know what it was about last night that made it real for her. I don't know why it was last night and not February when her doctor told her there was really nothing they could do about the cancer spots in her brain. All I know is that even though I thought she was being delusional when we would talk about fighting this thing, I liked that a lot more than the conversation we just shared.
And while it is handy to see that danger is coming so that you can take the next available exit, I liked things better when we were pretending that my friend was not about to die. I liked how I felt when I woke up this morning. Before I spoke with my friend who confided that it all just kind of hit her last night. This was really it. I don't know what it was about last night that made it real for her. I don't know why it was last night and not February when her doctor told her there was really nothing they could do about the cancer spots in her brain. All I know is that even though I thought she was being delusional when we would talk about fighting this thing, I liked that a lot more than the conversation we just shared.
Monday, February 9
UPDATES
HEALTH UPDATE: I saw my oncologist today and I am still cancer free, almost 2 years after my last tumor. Gosh time does fly when you are having fun! Now blood tests are every three months instead of every two and I see him again in 6 months. Next month is an MRI. Here's hoping that will be the last one.
UPDATE and Recap: I am sitting in my office. FREEZING MY BUNS OFF! Seriously, I feel like I am in a meat locker. Fortunately for us, its not that cold outside. This winter was crazy. Down here in Texas, it got colder sooner than it ever has before and we had more below freezing days than we have had in years. Still, Alex and I bundled up and got to cuddle under lots of blankets. It wasn't always fun getting out of bed in the morning, but somehow we made it through. I know this summer when I have all my windows open and the fans going, I will look on those winter days with more fondness than I should. Thanks for the challenge Crunchy. I am glad to report that we made it through alive!
NO WASTE CHALLENGE UPDATE: I did pretty well. I have been eating left overs. I will have to confess and say that I threw out one strawberry and some cantaloupe. Alex and I went to Deli one night after her Karate practice. I didn't eat all the fruit that came with the sandwich I ordered so I took it home. Unfortunately I didn't get to all of it before it started to not look "right" so I threw it out. Also we had canned green beans last night. Store brand. And there was something funky about them so I didn't keep them. Maybe I have gotten too used to eating fresh? I'm not sure.
DISNEY UPDATE: If anyone keeps up with entertainment news you will have heard that as of today Disney has the distribution rights for Steve Spielberg's Dreamworks Productions (the live action end of things). Spielberg has done things with the Mouse in the past, including Who Framed Roger Rabbit. The deal will mean that 10 Dreamworks movies will be made for Disney over the next 5-6 years. I'm excited for the possibilities. And, even though the deal doesn't include the animation studios, here's to hoping that this is one step closer to Katzinburg forgiving WDC for Czar Eisner.
BOOK GROUP UPDATE: Movement 2 of Rob Bell's book was interesting. To sum up quickly he was basically talking about how we read the bible. Early in the chapter he talked about how different Rabbi's interpret the scriptures differently. How they "bind and loose" certain things differently at different times in different places. Much like the different Christian denominations. Bell defines "binding and loosing" as "forbidding and permitting." That kind of thing just didn't jive well with me. Maybe its just me and my own issues with the words forbidding and permitting, but I don't go to the bible to see what it is I am allowed to do and what I am not allowed to do. Scripture to me is not a rule book. Bell does touch on that some, but I wish he would go deeper in talking about why. He spends so much time talking about questioning what is forbidden and allowed that he never really gets into talking about reading the bible as a journey of the soul. There are parts where I see glimpses of this. I just wish it had been the main theme. Again it created good discussions.
UPDATE and Recap: I am sitting in my office. FREEZING MY BUNS OFF! Seriously, I feel like I am in a meat locker. Fortunately for us, its not that cold outside. This winter was crazy. Down here in Texas, it got colder sooner than it ever has before and we had more below freezing days than we have had in years. Still, Alex and I bundled up and got to cuddle under lots of blankets. It wasn't always fun getting out of bed in the morning, but somehow we made it through. I know this summer when I have all my windows open and the fans going, I will look on those winter days with more fondness than I should. Thanks for the challenge Crunchy. I am glad to report that we made it through alive!NO WASTE CHALLENGE UPDATE: I did pretty well. I have been eating left overs. I will have to confess and say that I threw out one strawberry and some cantaloupe. Alex and I went to Deli one night after her Karate practice. I didn't eat all the fruit that came with the sandwich I ordered so I took it home. Unfortunately I didn't get to all of it before it started to not look "right" so I threw it out. Also we had canned green beans last night. Store brand. And there was something funky about them so I didn't keep them. Maybe I have gotten too used to eating fresh? I'm not sure.
DISNEY UPDATE: If anyone keeps up with entertainment news you will have heard that as of today Disney has the distribution rights for Steve Spielberg's Dreamworks Productions (the live action end of things). Spielberg has done things with the Mouse in the past, including Who Framed Roger Rabbit. The deal will mean that 10 Dreamworks movies will be made for Disney over the next 5-6 years. I'm excited for the possibilities. And, even though the deal doesn't include the animation studios, here's to hoping that this is one step closer to Katzinburg forgiving WDC for Czar Eisner.BOOK GROUP UPDATE: Movement 2 of Rob Bell's book was interesting. To sum up quickly he was basically talking about how we read the bible. Early in the chapter he talked about how different Rabbi's interpret the scriptures differently. How they "bind and loose" certain things differently at different times in different places. Much like the different Christian denominations. Bell defines "binding and loosing" as "forbidding and permitting." That kind of thing just didn't jive well with me. Maybe its just me and my own issues with the words forbidding and permitting, but I don't go to the bible to see what it is I am allowed to do and what I am not allowed to do. Scripture to me is not a rule book. Bell does touch on that some, but I wish he would go deeper in talking about why. He spends so much time talking about questioning what is forbidden and allowed that he never really gets into talking about reading the bible as a journey of the soul. There are parts where I see glimpses of this. I just wish it had been the main theme. Again it created good discussions.
Thursday, January 8
98%
I know. I am officially going to hell. I have to confess my little dark secret. Breast Cancer annoys me. It bugs me. I know that it is the number one cancer among women. I know that dealing with an illness is never easy. I also know that its JUST breast cancer. And when I say "JUST" I mean it. I'm belittling it. If you are going to get cancer in the years to come, and statics say that many of us will, breast cancer is the one to get. Its easy to find, its easy to treat and 98% of people who are diagnosed early are CURED. They do not go into remission only to have it come back later, they are 100%, won't have to worry about it again CURED.
So why does breast cancer bug me? Because of all the money that is lavished on it. All the pink bandannas, purses, toasters, can openers, mixers, vacuum cleaners, bottled water, soup, chips, yogurt, cream cheese... what doesn't give money to breast cancer research? Because there are other cancers, like ovarian cancer that no matter how soon they find it, it will kill you. You will be dead much sooner than you would have been before. If a doctor ever tells you that you have ovarian cancer start getting your affairs in order. Because prostate cancer is the number one cancer in men and it kills more men than breast cancer kills women. Because mammograms are part of everyday conversation, but men aren't encouraged to talk about getting their penis checked.
I'm not begrudging people who battle breast cancer. Its a disease, it sucks and it doesn't always go away with treatment. A friend of mine has a sister who has battled it for years. I walk in the race, I buy the breast cancer chip clips I get that its serious business.
But WAKE UP people! 98%. When I had my lung removed the survivor rate for that was 80%. In the advanced stage my cancer has taken, the survivor rate is 83%. Still, I don't think its going to be the thing that kills me. Not really. And even if it does kill me, who wants to think about that all the time?
I bring this up because my daughter's grandmother has been diagnosed with early breast cancer. They caught in her yearly check up. EARLY STAGES. She called me. Freaked out. I told her, "98%, you'll be fine. Talk to the doctor and get treated, you won't die and a year from now it will all seem like a bad dream." Four weeks later she is still freaked out. She's giving away her dog because she "won't be able to handle him." Convinced she will fight this thing for years. Convinced surgery will kill her. Convinced that chemo will make her so weak she will have to quit her job. That is the mentality that I can't stand. That is what makes me look at the breakfast cereal in disgust. I'm sorry you are sick. You will get better. Now please, move on.
And with that all said, maybe part of me is screaming at myself. Maybe I just needed a wake-up call about my own mortality. Once you have cancer, even when its gone. Its easy to be "in tune" with your body. Its easy to convince yourself that that headache you have had all week is a tumor, not stress. Its easy to worry.
FISHING
by Katy Sabayrac
Sometime I catch myself
fishing for death.
Every nibble that pulls
on the line reveals
a minuscule glimpse
of what I most fear.
Has this headache
gone on too long?
Why am I so tired?
How heavy is my menstrual cycle?
I strain my ears and try
to hear my lung, place
my hand over my heart
convinced it forgot a beat.
I stop.
If I keep fishing
I will catch a fish.
So why does breast cancer bug me? Because of all the money that is lavished on it. All the pink bandannas, purses, toasters, can openers, mixers, vacuum cleaners, bottled water, soup, chips, yogurt, cream cheese... what doesn't give money to breast cancer research? Because there are other cancers, like ovarian cancer that no matter how soon they find it, it will kill you. You will be dead much sooner than you would have been before. If a doctor ever tells you that you have ovarian cancer start getting your affairs in order. Because prostate cancer is the number one cancer in men and it kills more men than breast cancer kills women. Because mammograms are part of everyday conversation, but men aren't encouraged to talk about getting their penis checked.
I'm not begrudging people who battle breast cancer. Its a disease, it sucks and it doesn't always go away with treatment. A friend of mine has a sister who has battled it for years. I walk in the race, I buy the breast cancer chip clips I get that its serious business.
But WAKE UP people! 98%. When I had my lung removed the survivor rate for that was 80%. In the advanced stage my cancer has taken, the survivor rate is 83%. Still, I don't think its going to be the thing that kills me. Not really. And even if it does kill me, who wants to think about that all the time?
I bring this up because my daughter's grandmother has been diagnosed with early breast cancer. They caught in her yearly check up. EARLY STAGES. She called me. Freaked out. I told her, "98%, you'll be fine. Talk to the doctor and get treated, you won't die and a year from now it will all seem like a bad dream." Four weeks later she is still freaked out. She's giving away her dog because she "won't be able to handle him." Convinced she will fight this thing for years. Convinced surgery will kill her. Convinced that chemo will make her so weak she will have to quit her job. That is the mentality that I can't stand. That is what makes me look at the breakfast cereal in disgust. I'm sorry you are sick. You will get better. Now please, move on.
And with that all said, maybe part of me is screaming at myself. Maybe I just needed a wake-up call about my own mortality. Once you have cancer, even when its gone. Its easy to be "in tune" with your body. Its easy to convince yourself that that headache you have had all week is a tumor, not stress. Its easy to worry.
FISHING
by Katy Sabayrac
Sometime I catch myself
fishing for death.
Every nibble that pulls
on the line reveals
a minuscule glimpse
of what I most fear.
Has this headache
gone on too long?
Why am I so tired?
How heavy is my menstrual cycle?
I strain my ears and try
to hear my lung, place
my hand over my heart
convinced it forgot a beat.
I stop.
If I keep fishing
I will catch a fish.
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