Death is closer than I ever imagined
The unthinkable is every thought
Life isn't fair
Friends make it clear where I rank in their lives
Some step up
Some step back
Some disappear
To have cancer means...
I get to eat as much ice cream as I want because no one has the heart to stop me
She's dying, you know
Big eyes wondering why
Bigger hearts shutting down
Retreats into the Land of Denial
To have cancer means...
Reorganization of priorities and a bucket list
Claiming one's own identity
Saying "no" and feeling guilty because you always said yes
Pressing on to find a church home and finding one
A place where new friends will care, will pray, will attend my funeral
Letting go of past hurts that no one holds on to but me
To have cancer means...
Saying things out loud that require more courage than you thought you ever would have
"I am not who you think I am"
"I am scared"
"Losing you far exceeds any fear that cancer could bring"
"Our tomorrows were never ours, were they?"
Waiting to hear from people you knew would call or email or stop by and realizing they are not going to do any of those things
Finding out you know nothing about some of the people you thought you knew best
Watching true colors burst forth in some and fade to nothingness in others
To have cancer means...
Your spouse wants to hold your hand for his security as much as for yours
Your skin changes and looks amazing as a result of the toxin, chemotherapy
Your body wants to die instead of fight the side effects
The novelty of your news at first, is front page worthy...soon, a by-line and then, an occassional scan through the obituaries for your name
The battle continues whether convenient for you or not
Diehard friends remain close at six, seven, and nine-hundred, ninety-nine months out
A mental list of things undone rattles inside your head
The children grow older and you realize time is indeed short
A whirlwind of new memory-making ventures begins only to be sidelined by fatigue,
daily radiation, and lack of funds
To have cancer means...
$40 co-pay to walk in the door
Some days include walking in three or four doors
Daily radiation times six weeks, times $40?
Insecurities from looking like Frankenstein
Wondering just how bad your hair was that you were glad when it came out?
Being so very, very, very tired
To have cancer means...
Saying goodbye to used-to-be-friends-but-apparently-we-never-were-or-you-would-be-with-me-now-but-thank-you-for-the-card-six-months-ago
Life goes on for everyone elseBeing brave because your children are watching and learning, learning...
Finding your voice, your vice, your virtue
Bonding with people who have survived and learning of people who didn't
Awareness of the good in people, in love, in life
To have cancer means...
Surprise gifts of chocolate, sweet cards, an occasional 'atta girl, and a dozen roses
New realizations of what can be
Becoming an expert in oncology, radiation, chemotherapy and pharmaceuticals
Waiting for the mailman, the kids to get home, the next wave of nausea
Looking at travel books believing you will never go
Silently saying goodbye to plans and dreams and hopes
To have cancer means...
Wearing a little, pink ribbon as a badge of honor
Listening as others compare their illnesses to yours, oh, and I do hope Dr. Scholl helps your corn
Forcing yourself to stay awake, get up, not die for the sake of those who have been on their knees on your behalf...husband, children, family, and friends...
Feeling beautiful being bald and thin and nicknamed "Slim"
Eating cookies because you are battling chemo-induced arthritis and early on-set menopause and you think you deserve something tasty with double stuff
Friends saving you a seat because you can only stay long enough to watch your own children perform
To have cancer means...
There are not enough hours in the day to accommodate the fatigue, doctor appointments, treatments, and commitments
Smiling instead of crying
Reassuring everyone that which you are most unsure
Spending time with friends and being thankful for them
Falling asleep on your hero's chest
Not stressing over little things that truly do not matter
To have cancer means...
You needing to be alone sometimes in order to be around others
Nothing to your dogs and they treat you the exact same way they always have
Him touching your shoulder trying to absorb your sickness, your fears, your discomfort and sadness
Wearing really cool headwraps and hats that you actually like more than your old hair
Shopping for a prosthetic bathing suit
Being afraid of breaking a bone because you are so fragile
To have cancer means...
Bringing out the best in yourself by allowing others to help
Putting on a brave face and smiling when you really just want to smack someone
Dealing with the same impatience with new perspective...but still the same old impatience
Realizing you were wrong about some people, some friends
Lowering the bar on expectations for others, for yourself
Accepting that some people are just too busy with their own lives to be concerned about yours
God and family first, true friends stay close by, and heroes do exist
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