Thursday, November 6, 2014

I Swear, I Was Going to Be Unicorns & Glitter Cannons Today

I really wanted to tell you today about the positive things having cancer has brought to my life. i know, "Whaaaa???? What could be good about cancer? Have you lost it completely?" Truth is, there really ARE good things that happen when you have cancer. Don't get me wrong, cancer SUCKS. And we need a cure, like, yesterday. So if all my science-minded friends could get on that, I'd totally bake you brownies. Maybe even a cake.

Anyway, I wanted to explain the unexpected gifts that cancer gives us. But then I read two posts on Facebook, and my thought process took a detour. First was a quote posted by Ali, a beautiful soul who has experienced way more pain in her life than she deserves.

"Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim." - Vicki Harrison

To me, this IS cancer. It's good days and bad, tears and laughter. And we have to learn to swim in that ocean, to allow myself to float and rise and fall with the swells, to not fight the tide, because in my experience, that's the only way to keep from drowning in my disease.

Then I read a post by Miriam, a true teal warrior. She knows far too much about the bad days. But her will to live, and her faith that god will give her the miracle she so deserves are strong. She wrote about being consumed by cancer, by medications, by doctor appointments, by physically feeling awful. All she wants this weekend is a break from the constant thought of cancer, to be able to enjoy her amazing husband and beautiful children. TO LIVE. And that is so awesome and inspiring.

Grief and cancer go hand in hand. It doesn't matter what type you have, what stage you are, what treatment you have to endure. When you are diagnosed with cancer, you grieve, because the person you were before you were told you had cancer is gone forever. In their place is a person who has to learn some lessons in the worst possible way. You learn how much your life means to you. You realize how much the people who really support you mean to you. You also learn who didn't show up when you needed that shoulder to cry on, but, though it is hard and it hurts, it's a good thing to know. You learn who you can count on.

In a way, cancer slows things down. You start to really value the simple things in life. And that's a beautiful lesson, because we are all too often caught up in the trappings of wealth and privilege. To a cancer patient, wealth and privilege mean being healthy. Not a McMansion, or a luxury car. For a cancer patient, you health is the greatest, strongest currency in the world. And privilege is the ability to live a long, healthy, happy life, surrounded by the people you love who also love you back with every fiber of their being.

To my teal sisters, and to all others battling cancer in any form, I pray that we all learn to swim.

xo jennie

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