Year in a glance

Well folks, it’s been a year since I was diagnosed.  Wow.  That shit went by fast!  A lot of things have happened and a lot of things have changed in the last 12 months...primarily me.  Am I the same person?  No.  Not really.  I'm not mentally the same nor am I physically the same. However, I think I am a new and improved version of myself.  I have new pirate pizzazz and a new train of thought. 

All in all things are good, man!  I've got an awesome job, finally!   I fit in this place so much better than any company I've been at - it's seriously awesome, I love it.  I haven't been compelled to write my ramblings of a mad woman lately because I haven't driven through Crazy Town in a while.  Well, wait a second here - there is the exception of when I am on my period - then I totally take a nice scenic route through Crazy Land.  Crazy Land is right next to Crazy Town; not technically the same place, it just sounds the same.  

One of the things that I have learned over the last year is how to get a grip on my mental state - which is kind of hard when it not something tangible - not to mention something that at times you just can't control...at least for me!  My brain is almost it's own entity - especially in the middle of the night/morning when I am wide awake trying to go to sleep.  You gotta get a grip on it and it takes trial and error to figure out what works best for you.

For me, the best coping mechanism was accepting. Accepting the future, whatever it may be.  Accepting the fact that people will come in and out of my life regardless of my actions.   Accepting the changes.  Accepting that things could again change in the drop of a hat.  Accepting the emotions.  And primarily accepting the fear.   Yes, fear is consuming, but it's there for a reason.  Sometimes you have to sit with the fear to understand it.  To understand what it is that you're actually scared of and to understand how to climb out.  If people knew no fear, there would be a whole lot less of us on this planet, there wouldn't be amusement parks and scary movies would be like a romantic comedy.  Fear can be a good thing - in the sense of learning about ourselves and of course roller coasters.  

It is what it is.  Once you can accept that everything happens for a reason you can take the next step forward towards acceptance.  It might be baby steps or big, brave strides.  Whatever you can handle, run with it - we are stronger than we realize. 


**BTW - I was looking for a "motivational" image that references 'getting your shit together and not worrying about fear' and I stumbled across this quote from the great Mr. Walter White.  Let's give him a hand for throwing down some awesome words of wisdom!

 

To have or not to have - that is the question...

Peeps keep telling me to stop saying that "I have Melanoma" because the surgery took “it” out and I am now considered a "survivor".

Quotations upon quotations.  

Now, this is a hard/soft spot for me, which I am sure that a lot of us lower staged feel the same way.  It could be denial.  O-kay, fine, it’s more than likely denial for two (or more) reasons:

• Denial that 'we’re' called/considered "survivors" even though WE aren't higher staged warriors. Typically 'WE' haven’t really gone through a lot.  Though, now that I am typing this – I guess I have.  Biopsies, Surgeries, lymph nodes being yanked out, multiple doctor’s appointments, LOTS of $$$ still being spent and we can't leave out the mental anguish... Anyways, even with all of that, I personally don’t really feel that I am a "survivor"….quite yet. I'm sure my brain will eventually wrap around it (although my brain hasn't really wrapped around the fact that I have Melanoma just yet - it may take a little bit longer.)
• Denial that Melanoma is completely gone because 'we' aren't medically treated the same way that a higher staged warrior would be with continued CT/PET scans and testing.  We merely get one annual X-ray and one annual blood test (two annually if we're lucky).  Which said testing would only show tumors that are fairly far along.  CT/PET Scans would be so much more forewarning for everyone in our diagnosis.  
• This is something that all of us Cancer peeps have something to think about, regardless of what big Casino we have - this really should change!  We should all have the same right to find out what is growing in our bodies - right?  PET/CT Scans should be annually available to anyone that has Cancer tailed to their name.  That is preventative in my book.

No one with cancer knows if the cells are regaining strength and growing out of control.  And we have to learn to accept that fact.  Accept the fate.  My way of thinking is that our cells are already talented in transformation – they’ve earned their Masters in Mutation.  How do I know that I don’t have Melanoma?  I don’t.  Right at this very moment, a misfit Melanoma cell could be creeping along, just cruising around my body looking for a place to set up camp.  

Though, I do understand the people that are the "have nots" – the ones that say they had Melanoma (or had whatever cancer).  I can completely understand that they want that selfish bastard, also known as Melanoma, out of their bodies and lives.  Saying I "HAD" (X Cancer) would be amazing.

I mean, I guess even saying "I have Melanoma" is in a way kind of giving it power by saying "have".

Shit...

Growing up

Most of you that know me are well aware that I try to show my scars everyday. I like them.  They are part of me.  They aren't pretty, but they are...me, the new me.  Those scars were there during a HUGE transformation in my life.  They will be there with me during the ups and downs for the rest of my life and I am embracing them the best way that I know how: by loving them.

It's not like I'm walking up to total strangers, pulling down my shirt or lifting up my arm while screaming, "Hey dude, check out this awesome shit!"  I totally just got a vision of the scene in Jaws where they're on the boat, drunk and comparing their battle wounds.  I wear tank-tops everywhere possible.  I made mention in previous post (here) that I've even cut tee-shirts into tank-tops so they will fully expose the scars. Seriously, some days my clothing decisions are based on if my back is exposed or not.  Unfortunately, once it gets close to laundry day I am forced to wear something that covers them...or in the rare cold day in Orange County.

I guess I am hoping that someone will ask about them.  O-kay, fine - I want people to ask about them.  In almost a year I've only been asked twice.  I was standing in line at Rite-Aid and the man behind me said "That must have hurt" and I said "Oh, it's just Melanoma and I was totally out when that happened so I didn't feel a thing".  Even when I was in that one support group, I was crying and told them that I felt stupid for crying because I was losing my mind over stage 1b Melanoma. I feel terrible for saying it.  I feel even worse for thinking it.

So, the last time I was asked I made sure to say 'it's Melanoma, the creepiest form of skin cancer because it likes to go to your organs and often doesn't ask for an invite'.  I felt good that I educated two people that day of what to look for on their skin, finger nails, eyes and mouth.  It made me feel stronger that I wasn't hiding behind humor like I normally do.  But then it also made me a little sad because I wasn't hiding...I was out in the open, acknowledging that I actually have it.  It's easy to type it, to write it, to say it over the phone - but to say to someone face to face that is curious about the gnarly scars you have is a different story.  That day I grew up a little bit.

This year I promise to not hide behind realities.