And Now, For Something Completely Different…


For the first time in three months today I actually felt a glimmer of hope and joy. I met with my surgeon today to discuss exactly what it is we’re going to do this Friday (FYI – I climbed off the crazy horse and re-booked my surgery) . I went in there with my list of requests preparing to negotiate things such as keeping my cervix and minimal incisions. To my surprise, he agreed with me. There was no need to take my cervix so I could keep it. They would do the surgery laprascopically. A port will be placed under my skin against my rib cage for the IP (Intro-peritoneal)  chemotherapy.

After discussing completing the surgery and chemotherapy, I asked my doctor “So…what happens next?” . He replied that I get back to my life. The concept of that seems so foreign now. It has only been three months but it feels like 3 years of dealing with this. I don’t completely know how I’ll adjust to my old life, but lets take a look at what we can expect…

Old life was….

Me working for a jewelry store in winter. I had a promising burgeoning relationship and a social life. Christmas was just about to happen and I was completely healthy. I rode my bike down San Pablo Ave. everyday and had a routine. I had an apartment.I had a beautiful head of raven hair. I had room mates.

New Life…

New apartment (yet to be found) which means a new bike route to work. Going back into life and seeing people who I haven’t seen in 3 months bald. Explaining to my clients what I’ve been doing these past 6 months. Doing things for myself again like grocery shopping. Not feeling tired or in pain all the time. Being single and dating again. Leaving behind people in Sacramento that I have really come to love and be close to who are still struggling with disease themselves. Not depending so much on others to help me. Being independent again. Going to school.

While I’m very excited about the dream of my new life, I am also scared. I am scared to believe that it is possible. That there is life after cancer. I am forever changed by this disease. In my brain – I am somewhat stuck on Christmas Eve 2011. Time stopped for me then. Christmas never came and I took on a new identity in the blink of an eye. For the last 3 months I have been preparing to die. Now, how do I live?

I guess we will have to see…

Method to the Madness

Lately I’ve been contemplating the nature of existence quite a bit. I tend to be on the more skeptical side of things, so for me dogma and new age philosophy have never worked. I cannot subscribe to the ideas of organized religion when I have learned that politics and the agenda of man has shaped them so profusely. But neither can I believe in psuedo-science which proclaims miraculous findings only to have been distorted or faked entirely.

I’ve been watching movies lately. What the Bleep (most of which I find laughable – especially JZ knight AKA “Ramtha”), What Dreams May Come in particular. The concepts I took from these movies however is the power of thought. Is it possible that maybe there really is a method to all this madness? Some order in Chaos?Can we influence our life with our mindset and our thoughts?

Since I was about 12 I have dealt with crippling and life threatening depression. The first time I tried to slit my wrist was at 12 – the same year I had my first grand mal seizure and the year I was placed with my grandparents. Pretty much since then I had been obsessed with and had  a genuine desire to die. Even up to recently this year I would engage in low risk behaviors such as riding my bike without my helmet while fantasizing about being sent into oblivion by a semi. I don’t know why I have wanted to die. I just knew I was so unhappy and so full of emotional pain. Now I really could be dying. I always said I didn’t want children – and now my reproductive organs are riddled with cancer and being removed. Coincidence?

That is what I am trying to reconcile now. Tonight my body is sore from working out yesterday to the point that it really hurts to move. Yet when I think of myself as being able to move effortlessly and painlessly I can. I still feel the pain but it is not nearly as intense.

These last few years I have limited my own perception. My own ability to be creative and to dream. Now, I am giving myself permission to do so joyfully. To imagine just what if there IS an afterlife. To imagine beauty within that possibility. To imagine that perhaps there IS a universal consciousness. That we can fly and love and create a world of possibility.

When I think about the last year of my life things sort of make sense. There is a part of me that hates admitting that , but the logical part of my brain see’s it. What if I had stayed in New york? Or never lost my job? Or never moved back? Things happened as they needed to happen.

Right now, for the first time in a long time I feel incredibly loved. People that I had no idea would even care about me have come out of the woodwork to help me. I feel so thankful and humbled by all this. A part of me feels I don’t deserve this love and help, but thankfully that is a very small portion.