I'm not sure where this blog will take me. In four days, I will have surgery to remove two breast masses the doctors believe are cancerous. What will come after that, I am not sure. One thing I know is that I have a lot to share with those who care to hear it and maybe, just maybe, someone will benefit from what I have to say. Oh... and it helps me to stay distracted. :)
At the moment, I am thinking of ways to make something ugly into something beautiful.
Maybe the ugly experience in itself will be helped by inserting some positivity, hope, determination, adjustment of perspective and mindfulness.
Maybe those factors will turn that ugliness into something that can be inspirational and make the journey less difficult for someone else.
Maybe, as I did with the brain tumor, I will meet people who I cannot imagine my life without. Even those I have lost who had become like family to me (RIP Beverly, David and Kim <3 <3) remain in my heart in a really big way. Maybe some day I will be thankful for this experience because of all the new people it has brought into my life who I would not have known otherwise. People like Nancy, Kim, Amanda, Carol, Bruce, Kim, Beverly, JoAnne, Anne Z., Gus, Eric, David... too many to mention.
Maybe a beautiful tattoo (can they tattoo cleavage??) over my future scar will forever remind me of how lucky I continue to be. I have felt for 16 years that I am on borrowed time anyway. Maybe the word lucky mixed in with a bunch of fractals would be an appropriate tattoo.
My brain tumor scar lies hidden under my hair. It extends from just above my left ear under the hairline to down behind my left earlobe. It is bumpy, ridged and very ugly! I always think to myself that I could keep some spare change in those "nooks and crannies" if not for the hair covering it. Maybe I became a little lax in taking things for granted. Maybe I needed a reminder of how lucky I am. Having that scar exposed again after all these years if I need chemotherapy will truly bring me back to that place of ultimate appreciation for so many things... living to see my daughter graduate high school, choose a career, meet her life partner, experience having a 'son'; being able to hold my grandson and get to know him as he evolved into a beautiful little man with opinions and thoughts of his own... I need to always remember how incredibly lucky I am to have been here for each and every one of these. No matter what happens... I really lucked out.
All I know is that attitude was the most important tool with my brain tumor journey and I know this will be true now. Just holding on to that thought and staying mindful and appreciative of each and every moment... that's all I have to do. And I've been practicing that for a very long time. That I can do.
Early in my brain tumor journey I attended a brain tumor conference in Providence, Rhode Island hosted by the Brain Tumor Society of Boston. One of the speakers read an essay by Emily Perl Kingsley which was profound to me then as it is now. It perfectly sums up my thoughts here. I don't have the exact text but it went something like this:
A Trip To Rome
Having (insert appropriate situation here) (i.e., a brain tumor, breast cancer, a child with autism, etc.) is like planning all your life for a trip to Rome. For years you prepare by learning the language, researching what you want to see when you get there, scheduling tours, getting maps, etc. Finally, after so much anticipation, the day arrives. You get on the plane, find your seat, sit through a long flight and the plane lands. You come down the ramp off the plane and the flight attendant says "Welcome to Holland!!"
"Holland!!!????" you say. "What do you mean? I'm going to Rome. I have plans. I learned Italian. I have things I want to see!" "Well", says the flight attendant, "You are in Holland. And this is where you will have to stay."
All your friends and relatives call and write and tell you all about how much fun they are having in Rome. They send pictures and ask when you are coming. You are so disappointed as you wanted so badly to go there.
After some time in Holland, you stop to think. They have tulips here, windmills, Rembrandts... it's not like you've been dropped into an impoverished third world country or the middle of a war zone. You have to make a choice.
Either you sit and pout about the fact that you wanted to go to Rome and ended up here instead or you stop and look around. You think about all the people you are meeting here and the new things you will experience that you had not exactly expected.
**********
The choice is ours.
No comments:
Post a Comment