I never knew you,
But I loved you.
Your soft skin,
Your curly hair.
I never felt you move,
But you moved my heart.
I waited years to meet you,
Dreamt of the beauty of your coming.
Knew you would look like me,
With a little of your daddy.
You live in my heart.
What might’ve been,
Just wasn’t meant to be.
I wish I had some big, verbose thing to tell you but I don’t. I’ve just been thinking recently about cancer, life, boys, and God and how I have changed. It is entirely by Gods grace that I’m not the same person I was not too long ago. I fought hard to become this person I’m becoming, but cancer, it sucks. It kinda puts a stopper in any kind of progress. As my dad would’ve said ” it has a way of knocking you on your back so you’ll look up.” So I have. I’ve found God in all the corners of my life lately, it’s a scary time at its core. I put on a brave face, but cancer is a cold-blooded killer and I’m not ready to die. I feel amongst all the yucky-ness of this that there is a silver lining waiting to be discovered. I truly believe everything happens for a reason and in the words of one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott,
“Sometimes when a lot of things around you start going wrong all at once, it is to protect something big and lovely that is trying to get itself born. In other words, perhaps it needed you to be distracted so it can be born perfect.”
I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know who holds the future and He makes broken things beautiful. My life has been so broken the past four years and I saw how He worked in dads life and I saw how He works in the messiest times of grief. I choose to believe that He’ll show up and work in all the brokenness of this season. Speaking of brokenness, I recently had several encounters with dating in this modern generation, and they all sucked. Guys these days are quick to want to hook-up, play little mind game, and be terrified to catch feelings. Well, my heart has been cracked and I’ve omitted pieces of myself to fit what their looking for and I’m done. Life is far too short and too precious to waste on that. In the words of my homegirl Bey,
“middle fingers up and tell em’ boi bye.”
I’m worth being pursued and worth some effort. I’m too old and mature to play stupid little games. If you like me, tell me. I’m worth a man that can stand his ground and sees me for more than an object. Yes, I like the skin I’m in, but you should see my brain. It’s far more sexier. My life is spent taking it minute by minute. I’m going on with everyday life, including college because I have no intentions of dying this soon. So they’ll be plenty of time to check off my bucket list. Plus let’s be real, who has money to do that when they have cancer? Do they know how much it cost!? If anything, cancer has certainly made me more introspective. And let’s you know where your priorities lay…
Life sucks sometimes, I think it’s ok to say that. It’s not meant to be roses and sunshine all the time. Hard times make you appreciate the good ones all the more… I’m in a weird way lately, missing what could’ve been and what might not ever be. I had an Mri on Thursday, I was sedated for the the 2 1/2 hours. Which was an hour longer than planned. Nothing goes normally or according to planned with me. I’m not sure of the outcome or if they’ll be able to read this one. Scanxiety is real. I’m grieving for things that might never happen and how my life is nothing like it should be. People my age are getting married or having babies and starting their careers. I never planned to have cancer. Now it’s taken so many things from me, how does someone cope with that. I just feel broken and who wants anyone that’s broken.
I don’t like complicated. I like clear cut, straight to the point, give me the answers right now. Cancer isn’t simple, the answers never come when you want them and sometimes not at all. I got the news today that I would have to go back and have another Mri, this time under local anesthesia. Here again, I don’t have answers in the time I want them. Along with this I have some decisions to make about bariatric surgery, something that, mind you, has never crossed my radar…
Speaking of that, I have a little story for you and the point to this:
I’ve never been skinny, no one in my family is. Genetically speaking, I was predetermined to be big. I was bullied in school for it. I had horrible body image and no self confidence. I was in my late teens and was trying diet pills, appetite suppressants, fad diets, calorie restriction, and unhealthy amounts of exercise. You say how is exercise unhealthy? Well when you’re restricting calories which your body turns into energy to exercise you get light headed and vomit or pass out. Thankfully I never got to the last one. I was in a destructive cycle. I hated myself and my body. Then one day, I said I’m done. I found the body positive community on Tumblr and my life was changed. I took back the word fat, as it didn’t have power to be used as an insult anymore. It was simply a word to describe my body. It took years and a daily essential, but I found peace, happiness, and a love for my body.
I’m passionate about body positivity, body image, and a firm believer that your weight does not equate your health. I think all bodies are good bodies. However, being told that your weight mixed with genetics is causing cancer… Well, honestly, it’s really messing with this foundation I live on. How do I be all these things when I need to have a surgery that alters my body so I can lose weight? I’ve never wanted to be a “normal” size. Not that there is anything wrong with that, mind you. But I like my body the way it is, it’s lumps and bumps and hills and valleys. It was once a war zone now it’s a happy, peace filled place. I fought to be that woman, now I’m having to change without even knowing it’s going to put the cancer in remission. How do I deal with that? How does that place I’ve built to live in, not crumble? Can I find that place of peace?
I’ve noticed that a Cancer diagnosis or really an chronic illness is a death sentence to many relationships and friendships. You can almost be assured that people who you thought would be there, aren’t and people you never expected, will. I’m feeling some type of way about this right now. I’ve never been miss popularity, my personality is between you either like me or you don’t. I’m always kinder than necessary but don’t mistake that for weakness, I can be venomous when called for. However, I surround myself with the best people I know. Real recognizes real, I’m a firm believer in that. My point with this is to give you some advice from the sick persons perspective. When my dad died I thought my world stopped, but then when I was told “it is cancer” I stopped breathing, the world stopped moving and the realization that I could die hit me harder than a train collision. If I thought losing my dad made me take stock, well I don’t even know what this is. Every day I’m alive is a blessing, every moment I get to spend with those I love are moments to live for. If you know me, you know I’m an introvert. I don’t have a ton to say but you can be assured I’m always thinking but what this means for me is that I’d rather send you a text than talk to you in person. This diagnosis has made me realize how much time I don’t spend with people I love and care for…
So this is my advice to you, as well as myself; don’t worry about saying the right thing, just. Be. There. Make your love and presence known. We know you’re sorry and hate this for us. We hate it too, trust me. But don’t let that keep you from us. Spend time together even when you think you don’t have time, you do. Make time for those you truly care about. You aren’t promised tomorrow. Call, text, email, send a carrier pigeon. But be present in this life. Spend every moment you can with those you love. Some more truth from the sick persons perspective; we get lonely. We already have something that sets us apart, we generally can’t do some of the things healthy folks can or maybe we’re in pain and just can’t get out of the house. Either way, we feel left out and so far removed from those who are closest to us. Don’t let that keep you from making plans with us. Trust me when I say we know our limits and we’ll let you know them. My point is, you’re scared for us but we’re scared too. Don’t let that keep you from us. We aren’t promised tomorrow.
My days seem to cloud together lately. If I’m not at a doctors appointment, then I’m at home thinking about a million different things at once. I don’t have a lot to say right now. My emotions are on hyper-drive, I go from laughing to crying. Some days I’m so bored and want to get out of the house, others I don’t even want to shower. Most of you want to know what’s going on, I saw the oncologist on Monday and my cancer is stage 1. However, we don’t know how far it’s moved into the myometrium. If it’s farther in than 50%, surgery is the only option according to Dr. Kelly. To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about him yet. He listened to everything I had to say but I feel like he’s not giving the weight loss and hormone therapy a 100% and those of you that know me well, know that I go full force until I know I’ve exhausted that option. I know it’s risky and it’s not foolproof, but I’m young, I want more than anything to be a mom. He started me on a high dose of progestin and then will reevaluate at the appointment in a week. I’m worried about mom, how’s she’s dealing with everything and work at the same time. Money has always been sparse, but if she doesn’t work she doesn’t get paid and most doctors appointments are an all day affair. I’m not working right now, so I haven’t been able to contribute. I’m considering online classes for the fall, as I had planned on going back to finish up my associates. I’m struggling with all this and my faith. Everything is in a precarious place right now, it’s a hard pill to swallow.
I’ve racked my brain trying to find the words to write but I keep erasing them because they seem false. If only that was the case. I have Uterine Cancer. I appreciate everyone asking how I am but I’m not ok. I’m in quite a bit of pain from the surgery. My world has been turned upside down. I’m angry, so angry. What did I do to deserve this much grief in my lifetime? Did I bring this all in myself? It’s not fair… I don’t have any answers for you. We don’t know the stage or grade yet. I don’t know what they’ll want to do moving forward. I see the gynecologic oncologist on Wednesday, the 20th. I appreciate the concern and ask for prayer, for healing, for faith, for strength, for answers.