After we got home, we had dinner and all got dolled up. A friend of ours (Debbie) had arranged for us to get family portraits made. We have not had portraits made in over five years. My oldest actually smiled while the gentleman took our pictures. It was a great way to end our day.
Damion received a phone call from the Art Institute and he starts college on January 7th! I have a college kid! I am so proud of him. Since I have been sick, Damion really has made a complete change. He wants more out of life than mundane. My baby is growing up into an amazing young man.
I have been having a very difficult time catching my breath tonight, even on the oxygen. I miss being able to just breathe. You never realize how important breathing is until you can no longer breath on your own.
Let me give you a guide and tour through Cancerville. Here are just a few of the things that I have learned with my journey through the big C:
1. Everyone's cancer is a different journey. No two people are the same. I find it interesting that not only are the cancer cells between two people entirely different (even with the same cancer), but their experiences, thoughts, reactions, etc. are completely different.
2. Which brings me to, sometimes pity is hard. Now don't apply this to others because I think I may be slightly abnormal when it comes to this, but sometimes the pity is the hardest part. Which makes absolutely no sense because pity is a natural reaction from other people.
3. The little things do matter. Just because I have cancer and have had to rethink life a little does not mean I shouldn't sweat the little things. I like sweating the little things. It reminds me that life does go on, that life is going on.
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December 23, 2015
I split this blog up into two days because quite honestly, I fell asleep writing last night. The iron makes me really tired and I had a pretty full day yesterday. Not the case today, though.
Today was really a lazy day. I spent it lying in my husbands arms for the majority part of the day. The kids played outside and later on we had pizza for dinner. Tonight, my husband returns to work, but after tonight, he is off for nine whole days! I am so excited.
We did get Damion registered at the Art Institute and we completed his FAFSA. I have a child in college. WOW! Let that one sink in for a minute! He is so excited. I have not seen him this revved up about anything in such a long time. He is going for Digital Media and Animation. He will have a full schedule. We are all so proud of him! It's nice to see him so happy and not so stressed out. Believe it or not, he carries around so much stress about me being sick....he needs something to preoccupy his mind.
Happiness is, in a lot of ways, a choice. Some of these choices are big: what your job is, who you converse with, whether or not you are active, etc. But, you can also pause for a second and make a conscious decision within yourself to be happy, at least in that very moment. Depression, on the other hand, is not a choice. Mental health problems and chemical imbalances obviously deserve medical attention and someone cannot simply choose that they disappear. Although, I wish they would just disappear.
Even though I don't get to work, it doesn't mean I don't miss it. Believe me, I would trade this for working any day of the week. I miss the routine of working. It felt...normal. Although most days truly are happy and I seem to be able to achieve some sense of normalcy (and get cancer off my mind momentarily), some days, it all just hits me really hard. Yet, after a short pity fest, I usually have a moment of clarity and realize that if all I really want is a guarantee of endless time, then what is the point of worrying about the future and not being present in the here? I also realize that everyone has something. It is easy for me to walk down the street and envy others, assuming that their cancer-free lives are perfect. But, who's to say that they aren't thinking the same thing about me? Everyone has something that they are dealing with. And I will admit that every once in awhile I wish you could just tell everyone that you have cancer, particularly when it comes to asshole drivers. "You just cut off a 35 year old mother of three with lung cancer, asshole!" That'll teach them to cut people off!
After the appointment with my Pulmonary Oncologist, I realized that my lungs are what gave me cancer. I know there is no rationalization for cancer...but my lungs are so terrible, they became weak and allowed cancer to just "do it's thing". And the scariest part of this whole ordeal is...if the cancer doesn't kill me, the lung disease will. I will never be off of oxygen. The pulmonary fibrosis is even worse than the cancer...and I might eventually need a lung transplant. People with pulmonary fibrosis live only a total of 2-3 years. I really am screwed...but again, I am going to make the most of what little time I have left.
How did this just happen? I mean, I know I smoked, and I realize the smoking damaged my lungs...but more people live to be like 60 or 70 before smoking ever does any real damage to their lungs. My lungs are so scarred and weak, I shouldn't have ever picked up a cigarette. According to my doctor, my lungs have zero tolerance for any form of smoke and irritants. Trying to figure out why or how something happened or how event a and b led to c is such a big part of being human. So, can you justify cancer or lung disease? No, you can't but that doesn't mean I am not going to try.
Family was, is, and will always be, what comes first for me. My motivation, inspiration, and mindset come from my family and their needs. A close second is my "Army of Friends"...I will call them, "Shanna's Army". I have a core group of friends and warriors that provide support of all kinds to me and my family.
There are a few things that getting sick really illuminates:
One. Dieting? Is ridiculous. The way you look is beside the point, the biggest you bring to any room in your heart.
Two. You will ask anyone for money. Will get on your knees to beg your enemy for help and because you know that, way down under all that animosity is a deep and abiding love, for why else would she hate you with such loyalty?
Three. Things that used to taste bitter suddenly turn to maple sugar in your mouth; what you wouldn't give for another year to grieve that man that you thought you loved more than bone marrow.
Four. Suddenly, everything will be beautiful. The halfhearted sunset,the rotting leaves, the way a rind hugs a lime, your own age spots- what you wouldn't do to earn more of them.
Five. Yes, you will drink liquid seaweed. You'd stand on your head in a mini-skirt wearing no underpants in front of your ex's new girlfriend if you thought it would make a difference but you won't -not ever-be the same again. This is neither good nor bad, it just is, and, anyway, too much suffering is caused by trying to hold on to things. There goes your youth, there goes your lover, there goes your health, your wealth, your beauty, all of them useful when they were around but there are other tools with which to cherish yourself now.
Six. The first thing you give up is the means of comforting yourself with thoughts of suicide.
Seven. The second thing you give up is pride. And, as you do, the world will come rushing forward. It is fucking hard to ask for help, but if you don't, you will never know how much you matter, or the fact that the only person who didn't love you enough is huddled inside your skin.
Eight. Your skin- Your skin is the biggest gift you were ever given. When the doctors first said I might die- what surprised me is that I didn't wish I had written more poems, or even told people I loved them, because if I love you, you know! What I wished is that I'd seen more of the world. Let its salt stick to me. I've spent so much time in my head and in my heart that I forgot to live in my body! Maybe that's why she's in trouble now. I have been obsessed with achieving immortality through my writing. But when I was told in no uncertain terms that this rickety container has an actual expiration date, I knew that immortality was bullshit! So I left that hospital with a horse's dose of right fucking now! We don't get to take anything with us! And anything we leave behind is not one foot still in life because once we are dust we are literally for the wind. So, on my agenda, for whatever time I have left, is joy!
Because number nine. Anticipatory grief is absurd. When I'm dead, I won't be here to miss anything, and engaging in pre-missing seems like an indulgence. It's not that there isn't pleasure in weeping - why else would we do it so much?!- but I've got oceans to float, I've got lava to peep, I've got a balcony in the south of France upon which to slow dance with my lover who I love down to the spaces between their eye-lashes! Poems and writings will happen because that is how I process life, but I will no longer mistake them for living!
Remember to eat the avocados and enjoy every ounce of life that you can while you are here!
Love you all, truly mean it...
Shanna
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