hanging on
the past week has been warm, but grey and damp. some days it has rained, others brought mist and fog, and there were also days when the sky just loomed darkly overhead. with the time change night comes early and fall has suddenly descended deeply and left the world a little darker. i find myself looking forward to seeing people's christmas lights when i drive home in the dark. they brighten the world much like the last leaves that are hanging onto the tree branches this time of year.
with every week that passes i find myself caught between two worlds. one of them is the one i left behind the day i found out i had cancer. there, things seem certain. i walked around with a five-year plan, as recommended by dad and my finance professor. i didn't know exactly where i was heading, but that was part of what i liked about my life, something i was comforted and also propelled by. i knew where i wanted to end up, generally speaking, and i knew i would get there and have the things i wanted along the way because i accomplish what i put my mind to. i wouldn't say it was easy, but in retrospect, it was. i felt like i was doing so much more than just hanging on.
the other world is the one of drugs every three weeks, scans every nine. doctors, nurses, health insurance, days off because of side effects, and cancer. on a day to day basis, it is manageable and even enjoyable. things are boiled down to perhaps what they should have been even in the first world i wrote of; eat well, sleep well, surround myself with people i want to be around and who make me happy, write, take pictures, travel, play with the dog. things that sometimes got overlooked in the hustle and bustle of it all when i was busy living life without a serious care in the world. now, they are all here, but i cannot help but want to be in the other world. i don't know how to make them intertwine. there are ideas, but it is frightening. because i don't know the answers. i don't know how long this goes on. i don't know if it can be done elsewhere. i don't know how long i go on. not that anyone does. but i know my body has this problem and right now it is under control. and i like it that way. but life doesn't go this way for normal people. life goes this way for me. and sometimes it is ok and other times i am just stuck, hanging on.
during the campaign this fall i altered an obama sticker and put it on my car. it is a small sticker that reads "hope". i put it on not only because i was supporting barack, but because i am driven by hope in everything that i do. at a young adults with cancer support group meeting more than a year ago, i was saying something and after i finished my thought, one of the mediators remarked, "you are really full of hope, aren't you?" i was then and i am now. and i don't know if i am crazy for being so full of it. without it, i don't think i could get out of bed, facing what i am facing every day. it motivates me to do things i've always wanted to do that might seem a little silly, like going to italy for three days on a whim. it motivates me to keep going for the drugs when i am so sick of being stuck with fucking needles every three weeks. it motivates me to make plans for skiing two or three months ahead of time. i read the postings on cancer science websites, trolling for news of new drugs or therapies that might one day help me. this is impossible without hope. i need it in order to get off the ground, one step at a time, trying to live as strongly as possible in between the worlds i'm stuck between, being pulled in both directions, hanging on.
with every week that passes i find myself caught between two worlds. one of them is the one i left behind the day i found out i had cancer. there, things seem certain. i walked around with a five-year plan, as recommended by dad and my finance professor. i didn't know exactly where i was heading, but that was part of what i liked about my life, something i was comforted and also propelled by. i knew where i wanted to end up, generally speaking, and i knew i would get there and have the things i wanted along the way because i accomplish what i put my mind to. i wouldn't say it was easy, but in retrospect, it was. i felt like i was doing so much more than just hanging on.
the other world is the one of drugs every three weeks, scans every nine. doctors, nurses, health insurance, days off because of side effects, and cancer. on a day to day basis, it is manageable and even enjoyable. things are boiled down to perhaps what they should have been even in the first world i wrote of; eat well, sleep well, surround myself with people i want to be around and who make me happy, write, take pictures, travel, play with the dog. things that sometimes got overlooked in the hustle and bustle of it all when i was busy living life without a serious care in the world. now, they are all here, but i cannot help but want to be in the other world. i don't know how to make them intertwine. there are ideas, but it is frightening. because i don't know the answers. i don't know how long this goes on. i don't know if it can be done elsewhere. i don't know how long i go on. not that anyone does. but i know my body has this problem and right now it is under control. and i like it that way. but life doesn't go this way for normal people. life goes this way for me. and sometimes it is ok and other times i am just stuck, hanging on.
during the campaign this fall i altered an obama sticker and put it on my car. it is a small sticker that reads "hope". i put it on not only because i was supporting barack, but because i am driven by hope in everything that i do. at a young adults with cancer support group meeting more than a year ago, i was saying something and after i finished my thought, one of the mediators remarked, "you are really full of hope, aren't you?" i was then and i am now. and i don't know if i am crazy for being so full of it. without it, i don't think i could get out of bed, facing what i am facing every day. it motivates me to do things i've always wanted to do that might seem a little silly, like going to italy for three days on a whim. it motivates me to keep going for the drugs when i am so sick of being stuck with fucking needles every three weeks. it motivates me to make plans for skiing two or three months ahead of time. i read the postings on cancer science websites, trolling for news of new drugs or therapies that might one day help me. this is impossible without hope. i need it in order to get off the ground, one step at a time, trying to live as strongly as possible in between the worlds i'm stuck between, being pulled in both directions, hanging on.
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