Melanoma; the gift that keeps on giving.

Someone once wrote that having cancer was like being given a gift. It was a chance for them to put things right in their relationships, a wake up call of sorts.

I'm not sure if I completely agree with that, because no matter how you want to look at it, cancer wasn't any sort of gift or wake up call for me. It was the worst thing in the world that could ever possibly happen.

For me it's like this:

Cancer is going to take me away from the people who need me the most.

BUT...

Having late stage cancer has given me a chance to leave things right for my family. I wouldn't have that if I was in a car wreck tomorrow. It has allowed me to shrug off the petty and unimportant and focus on what matters. It has given me the freedom to step out from beneath people's expectations of me and be the person I really want to be. To behave how I really want to behave, feel how I want to feel, live how I want to live. It has given me the impetus to cut toxic people out of my life ruthlessly and with finality. I now face each new situation with the thought, "If this was my last day, if this is the last thing I were to do, how do I want to be remembered by the people who are important to me?"



I already know the answer to that.

When I was diagnosed with stage IV cancer, I thought hard about it and came to this realisation; If I don't survive this, I want to have lived my last time on this earth with dignity and grace and strength. I want my children to look back on my illness and passing and remember that I was brave and giving and infinitely loving right up until the final moment.

You see, in order to be able to fight, I think you have to acknowledge the possible ending. I'm beginning to work on letters for my family, I want them to cover every possible event that I might not be here for. My daughters' first date, their graduation, their wedding, their first baby... My baby's first little league game, his first boyscout meeting, seeing the little boy he's going to become, who I only get small glimpses of now, then the man. I live with the knowledge that I probably won't be here for any of that. So I'm writing my letters, which is hard to do.

But it's not giving up, far from it. Knowing that I have everything in order, that my children will still have my touch, my guidance from beyond the grave, that Jim will still have my partnership and advice, enables me to let go of that worry a little bit, it looses the grip of the paralysing terror enough that I can breathe just a little. It's like anything in life, in order to survive, you have to take care of business.


False hope rings hollow.

I believe that true positivity lies in realistically knowing how bad it is and how bad it can be, but doing it anyway. It lies in having the backbone to give cancer the finger, even when you're on the ropes and bleeding. It lies in looking fear square in the face and not being the first to drop your gaze.

And it lies in having the courage to still BELIEVE in spite of it all!

This is a learn as you go experience for me and I learned a few things about myself this past couple of days. One thing that never ceases to amaze me about the human spirit is how resilient it is. Just when you think you're not going to be able to bounce back, somehow you dig down deep into your soul and you find the strength to get back on your feet and back in the fight.

You have to know... you're amazing.

Don't get me wrong here, it's not that I'm expecting to die, quite the opposite in fact, I'm expecting to live!

Stay strong!