It has been nearly an ideal perfect weather week here in Boston.
It would've been nice if ideal perfect weather week would've been last week when I was working at camp.
Because although camp week was perfectly amazing I perfectly stuck to my clothes for 5 days straight with the extreme humidity.
But okay.
This week.
Near perfect.
I sat on my patio today.
Dog by my side.
Freakin black crows not shutting up in my yard.
(Adorable dog even annoyed)
Slight breeze.
All was perfect in the moment.
(Other than the crows)
And I thought how crazy it is that 365 days ago my life was far from perfect.
I had peach fuzz filled spikes of hair (with gray) (lots of gray) growing back slowly.
I was mentally and physically spent from chemo.
I was in the midst of radiation, covered with radiation burns.
I had no energy.
And was sad quite a bit.
Which, of course, made sense.
But today, in my perfect moment, I'm feeling a bit perplexed.
Some say it's called survivors guilt.
I presently know two people living with metastatic cancer.
Sorry. Make that three.
And I'm on my patio.
I know I have to go on living.
And I know they wouldn't want others to stop living.
But the unfairness of it all is almost too much to bare.
I know bad things happen.
I know bad things happen to good people.
Every day I torture myself by reading ridiculously awful stories going on in the world.
(Don't over analyze. Im not really sure why I do it. )
Point is.
Cancer sucks.
And that's the bottom line.
And I'm not sure while I was saved and others are not.
And I'm not sure I am saved because you know...let's not forget our friend NED who keeps us cancer girls(and guys) in check.
We never want to say never here in cancer land.
But my scars are not as purple
and my chest no longer has a tube in it for IV access
and my hair can somewhat be put into a ponytail if I tried really really really hard
and I have two breasts (so what if one is fake)
and my last scans were clean
and yet
I sit on my patio
and I shed a tear.
To say I've grown so much in the past year is cliche yet speaks the truth.
I am more content than I have been.
I feel more secure with myself and if possible, love my "family" even more. (Family is not just blood you know)
But the damn cancer keeps on finding people.
Good people
And what I dont find fair is how rapists and predators and murderers are all bypassing cancer but the coach of the soccer team and the highschool math teacher and the mother of three who volunteers for the PTO....they...
they get the short straw.
I'm not sure how this plays out in the world but it sucks.
It sucked even more when I worked at camp for the week and know it's hitting these innocent children who haven't even had a chance at a normal childhood yet.
A kid who doesn't even know how to swim without swimmies yet.
And the kid who has 5 pillow pets at home.
And the kid who cannot see out of one of his eyes.
So in my perfect patio afternoon
I cry.
Feeling helpless.
Not for myself-
for so many others.
If you have a friend or family member going through cancer I offer you my free advice.
Call them (Hear their voice)
Send them a note (hand written please) (Remember how to put a stamp on?)
Buy them an ice cream. (Splurge for the waffle cone)
If they aren't up for it. Dont take it personally.
Sometimes we are drained and dont want to put on a front.
Be the friend you dont need to put on a front for.
Love,
Cancer Girl
It would've been nice if ideal perfect weather week would've been last week when I was working at camp.
Because although camp week was perfectly amazing I perfectly stuck to my clothes for 5 days straight with the extreme humidity.
But okay.
This week.
Near perfect.
I sat on my patio today.
Dog by my side.
Freakin black crows not shutting up in my yard.
(Adorable dog even annoyed)
Slight breeze.
All was perfect in the moment.
(Other than the crows)
And I thought how crazy it is that 365 days ago my life was far from perfect.
I had peach fuzz filled spikes of hair (with gray) (lots of gray) growing back slowly.
I was mentally and physically spent from chemo.
I was in the midst of radiation, covered with radiation burns.
I had no energy.
And was sad quite a bit.
Which, of course, made sense.
But today, in my perfect moment, I'm feeling a bit perplexed.
Some say it's called survivors guilt.
I presently know two people living with metastatic cancer.
Sorry. Make that three.
And I'm on my patio.
I know I have to go on living.
And I know they wouldn't want others to stop living.
But the unfairness of it all is almost too much to bare.
I know bad things happen.
I know bad things happen to good people.
Every day I torture myself by reading ridiculously awful stories going on in the world.
(Don't over analyze. Im not really sure why I do it. )
Point is.
Cancer sucks.
And that's the bottom line.
And I'm not sure while I was saved and others are not.
And I'm not sure I am saved because you know...let's not forget our friend NED who keeps us cancer girls(and guys) in check.
We never want to say never here in cancer land.
But my scars are not as purple
and my chest no longer has a tube in it for IV access
and my hair can somewhat be put into a ponytail if I tried really really really hard
and I have two breasts (so what if one is fake)
and my last scans were clean
and yet
I sit on my patio
and I shed a tear.
To say I've grown so much in the past year is cliche yet speaks the truth.
I am more content than I have been.
I feel more secure with myself and if possible, love my "family" even more. (Family is not just blood you know)
But the damn cancer keeps on finding people.
Good people
And what I dont find fair is how rapists and predators and murderers are all bypassing cancer but the coach of the soccer team and the highschool math teacher and the mother of three who volunteers for the PTO....they...
they get the short straw.
I'm not sure how this plays out in the world but it sucks.
It sucked even more when I worked at camp for the week and know it's hitting these innocent children who haven't even had a chance at a normal childhood yet.
A kid who doesn't even know how to swim without swimmies yet.
And the kid who has 5 pillow pets at home.
And the kid who cannot see out of one of his eyes.
So in my perfect patio afternoon
I cry.
Feeling helpless.
Not for myself-
for so many others.
If you have a friend or family member going through cancer I offer you my free advice.
Call them (Hear their voice)
Send them a note (hand written please) (Remember how to put a stamp on?)
Buy them an ice cream. (Splurge for the waffle cone)
If they aren't up for it. Dont take it personally.
Sometimes we are drained and dont want to put on a front.
Be the friend you dont need to put on a front for.
Love,
Cancer Girl
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