Strong.

Okay.... This turned out to be a long one, you might want to grab a latte and a slice of pumpkin pie and take a couple of Motrin (maybe a Valium) before you start reading. Oh, and I put in some pictures to break it up a bit. Oh, and you might not want to read the end part entitled The Ugly if you're easily offended. [/disclaimer]



Yesterday was Thanksgiving (master of the obvious, me, I know).

I found myself having a bit of a moment at one point.

I mean, I was totally on the ball and soooo organised. The dinner preparations went like butter, my girls helped me, we had a lot of fun. It was a labor of love, there was no work involved.

Jim and I had to run out early in the morning for something we'd forgotten the night before when we did the big grocery shop.



*****

Short funny story while I think of it; I had earned a free turkey with my card from the local supermarket, so went to pick it up on Wednesday evening. Awesome you say, every little helps! That's what I thought, I was going to give it to the food bank, but realised that with the storm and then my issues, Jim had missed quite a bit of work and things got a bit tight there for a while, so I'd better keep it, because there's been times this past year where I've worried about having enough food for my own family, I'll be honest, and I can't be so arrogant that I don't expect those sort of times to come again.

Anyway, the turkey... Did I mention that it was frozen? Did I also mention that I knew it would be frozen?

I said to Jim, no way we're eating that turkey tomorrow.

We were like the Pilgrims!

In true Pilgrim mode, I decided to go forth and find a fresh turkey. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my husband for his patience and sense of humor. I have no idea how he puts up with me.

We went to another local store, Wegmans. I used to work for them, in perishables, so I knew they'd have fresh turkeys right into Thanksgiving day. They had a couple of nice, large turkeys there on the shelf. "Kewl" I say, and then look at the price of the maybe 20lb one. $53! I stood there and laughed my butt off.

Jim was all for just buying one, but I told him I'd eat frozen pizza first and have the other turkey and our Thanksgiving on Sunday before I'd spend upwards of $50 on a turkey. I mean, sheesh, I'd go out back and shoot one before I'd do that - although who wants to spend the night before Thanksgiving plucking and disembowelling? UGH.

But I had a better idea...

"We're going to Walmart." I say the dreaded words to Jim. He pales slightly, but takes it like a man and off we go.

We have quite a nice supercenter here in town, btw.

It went like this; Parked car (need handicap sticker - keep forgetting about being terminally ill), walked into store, hit meat counter, find shipload of turkeys that they'd had the sense to defrost so that doofuses like moi can eat Thanksgiving dinner, look at price: $22. For an 18lb bird.

Plus all the cashiers had a great laugh at my doofus-ish-ness and the $53 turkey at the other place. Leave 'em laughing is my motto, it's a good feeling to make someone's day by just being normal and nice.

So anyway, back to our usual scheduled program.

*****



So yeah, we had to go back to Wallyworld the next morning for a couple bits and pieces I want (did I mention that the shopping trip the night before took place at 11pm?). Not sure why we bought the new shower curtain liner and bathmat, but oh well. It was as we were driving home that I got to thinking about how lucky I am. I guess the spirit of the day, which we all know isn't about turkey, puts you in the mode to be thankful for what you have.

I got to thinking about people who are having it so much rougher than I am. Cancer patients in the middle of their Hellish fight. Children with cancer, who face it with far more dignity, strength and courage than I could ever hope for. People who may have recently lost a loved one, who are facing this first holiday without them. I know how the day made ME feel. I can't imagine how one could do it filled with grief.

Anyone who reads this who is living with that, please know that I thought about you yesterday and I cared. And I still do.

And then I got to thinking about people who, probably by no means, or fault, of their own, are just really down on their luck. Homeless people, of course, I see no reason in this day and age in the United States of America why a family should be homeless. For me, with a brutal Buffalo winter imminently upon us, I really think there's more that could be done. And I know about personal responsibility, I'm a great believer it, I believe you make your own luck and sometimes, when things go to crap, you just have to put on your big girl panties and deal with it. But not everyone has that ability. And sometimes, I believe people get to a certain point and it's just extremely hard to bring yourself back.



I say this, because this time last year, we lost everything. It was a culmination of things. I had the baby, couldn't work because of the surgeries (I was planning on finding a new job in the spring of '05 when I was well recovered from the baby and the WLE and SNB, but then found out that they'd found positive cells in my groin nodes and had to go for the LND), my LND recovery took so long, I had it at the beginning of May and it didn't heal well. I was still having problems right through to the Fall of that year. Jim's work became inconsistent, (he was laid off three days after my mel dx, right after the baby was born), he worked every hour he could, but you get behind and it's hard to get caught up again, heavy local taxes didn't help... taxes on everything - even your taxes, etc. It was hard on Jim and, he never made me feel this way and pooh-pooh'ed me for even thinking it, I know that had I been working, even part time, we'd probably have been able to pull through.

We moved into this house about a week before Thanksgiving and then the day before Thanksgiving, Jim was laid off from his job. It was a pretty stressful time, but we made it work, with a little determination, grit and backbone. (Things get bad, sure, but there's no reason you have to just lie down and die - OR lose your dignity. Sometimes you need extra tools, like outside help, which is what we got from Jim's union. You accept it graciously and with thanks, and then, when you can, you pay it forwards to the next person who needs it.) One year later, we're still standing and, aside from cancer, our life is pretty all right at this point. There has been enough work this year, so even though we're playing ketchup from last year (or trying to), we're lucky enough to be in the position to do so.

My dream? To recover from these setbacks I've had and feel well enough to go back to work in a little jobby-job.

That's my Thanksgiving/Christmas/Easter Bunny wish this year. I've been a really good girl, Santa.



So anyway...

I got to thinking about how lucky I am.

I live in a (not at all posh) really cool, very old house. I'm warm. I have enough to eat. My kids go to excellent schools. We're safe. Healthy (well, you know... my family is, which is such a blessing). My situation seems to be improving - I'll take that one day at a time, the good days are great, if we have more bad days, I'll worry about it if/when it happens. I also get to stay home with my baby every day, which is a pleasure, he's such a little man. I'm so happy to have this time with him. I'm happy to be home when my kids get off the bus too... it makes my day to see their smiling faces. It makes my day also to see the fear beginning to leave their eyes. I know that every day they ride home on the bus not knowing if something's happened to me, whether they'll come into me laying on the floor sick. Or dead.

Out of this whole cancer fiasco, the thought that I KNOW I'm breaking my children's hearts is the hardest thing to live with.

So... my moment...

I guess what I was trying to say with all that verbiage was that I thought about other people who have problems, not necessarily cancer, but there are other things just as, even more in fact, pressing. I felt humbled. It made me really look at my own situation and made me realise just how good I have it, how lucky I am - in spite of all this horrible crap - to be where I am now, with treatment seeming to work (and yeah, I know it can all turn to crap tomorrow, even more reason to be thankful for today and seize THIS moment).

I thought about the friends I've made, my Angels, as I always do. You guys, of course. People like Jim's foreman, who didn't care that he had to miss hours to take me for treatment and helped him to make them up at other times and took up a collection at the union hall for us to help us get through that really rough time.

His wife, who didn't know me from Adam and who drove an hour from her home twice a week, before she went to work, to take me for treatment so that we could continue to try to make ends meet and told me that she'll continue to do so, no matter how long it went on for. Who also told me never to be afraid to call and ask for anything, because if it was something she couldn't do, she'd just say so. I liked that honesty, makes you feel like less of a burden if someone just says 'I'm sorry I can't' rather than do it and be thinking that they don't want to. She's also the person who, the first time my doctor told me we were seeing improvement, held my hand all the way home as I sat and had a little meltdown.

Jim's union brothers who've really been there for us this past year in so many ways.

Parents at my daughter's school who called and offered help with the kids and shopping and babysitting Jamie if I have to have scans or treatment. We just started in this school system in September, I've never even met these people. My daughter's teacher, who gave me her cell# and told me to call any time and is offering her so much support at school, I'd never have expected it.

The cancer survivor who makes hats and leaves them at the oncology clinic for patients to take for free. That really got to me the first time I noticed it. It's so sweet, such a lovely way of showing support...

Then I had a really good cry.



It sort of doesn't matter about the people who dropped off the face of the Earth when I got cancer. Family, former friends and neighbours (who you spent years taking their kid in off the bus so they could work and not pay daycare). It just doesn't matter.

My own mother doesn't want to talk to me, she told me when I was stage III, alone at home with a tiny baby, recovering from surgery, that the reason she never calls (I called her, obviously) is because she can't deal with what's happening to me, she's recently found a new love and doesn't want her happiness threatened. Hurt like Hell, that but what are you gonna do? I can't MAKE her care. I can't make her be the mother I need her to be. I don't even resent her. It's just like I don't even have a mother anymore, she's just another one of those people. I have bigger fish to fry and don't even know why I spoke of it.

Actually I do... because this blog is going to be here even after I'm gone and I want it to be HONEST.

It occurs to me that the whole people part of this could have been a post on it's own. The title "The Good, The Bad, And The UGLY" would have been a fitting one.

So anyway, after my snotty, streaming faced, really freaking UGLY crying fit (Jim had to change his shirt from the snot), I started to think a bit. I thought back to last Saturday and the people and how I felt and realised that I do feel pretty vulnerable on my first day off of treatment, and that's probably - definitely - just down to sheer physical exhaustion and that it's okay.

It passes so quickly, within minutes and then I'm singing my silly standing song and doing a load of laundry and thank goodness I'm able to actually DO my laundry now, after everything. (It's those little things, guys. I don't want to climb Mount Everest, or swim the Atlantic Ocean, I'll just fold laundry and load the dishwasher now that I can remember how to.)

And through it all, my moment and my cry, that morning happy thing I do with my coffee and toasted roll at oh-dark-thirty was still there. Sometimes I guess we all need a little meltdown... a little crying jag to relieve the pressure. Crying doesn't always have to mean unhappy. Sometimes it's just a physical release.

Thanks Giving? There was plenty of that. We had a great day!

It was the best Thanksgiving dinner I have ever made.

BTW, those Pilgrims were kinda FIERCE, huh? No matter what anyone's opinion on them you have to admit, that's bravery right there. Going to a new world with nothing. I sort of know that feeling, I came to the USA with my children and what we could carry in 8 large suitcases and started over completely. Didn't rob the indigenous population though... But then, I came over to a fully furnished house, so there was no need... (Watched the Mayflower show on THC last night in between naps. Quick btw too, I'm originally from the UK, so this is history and holiday I never really knew about before I lived here, I knew the part of why they left, of course, but nothing about once they reached the new world.)

Speaking of the UGLY... (If you got this far, you might just want to stop reading now... Heh.)



One more thing I'd like to say in this (loooooong) missive. And I thought hard about whether to say anything at all. But in the spirit of honesty, and because I'm more than a little appalled, I'm going to go for it.

This week on a certain cancer board I frequent, I have seen some posts by certain people that seemed designed to bring stage IV cancer patients down in an attempt to cause them to second-guess themselves for the furtherment of certain individual agendas.

Appalling doesn't even begin to cover it.

I'm so freaking disgusted.

The sick thing is, it's all about religion. The most appalling posts were written by people who profess themselves to be Christians. There's something wrong with that.

One thing I want to get straight and anyone who's been reading for a while will have seen my stance on this before, but for the record. I don't care about anyone else's religion. I just don't care. If you truly believe, then good for you, I'm happy for you. I really am. I just don't really care.

Even if you're the type (and trust me, I know TRUE Christians who would be appalled by you as they are VERY good people) who can't cope with life and it's trials without the comfort of hiding behind the skirt of a faceless deity, while making obscenely hurtful remarks to dying people and behaving as you wish, because God will forgive you, because you BELIEVE. I don't care. About you OR what you believe. I just don't want to hear about it. That's not hard to grasp.

I used to believe. Unfortunately that was knocked out of me with every setback I have had. Every look of fear in my children's eyes. Every tear my husband has shed.

Cancer has challenged - no, shattered every belief I have ever had.

"Exactly how DO you get through each day, knowing you are gonna die, and probably sooner, rather than later?"

Was one of the questions.

My response: With the power of modern medecine and the force of my own WILL.

Both are far more realistic than waiting for God to save me. Medecine keeps me alive (for now) and my WILL gets me through every day, every new challenge, every setback.

Someone said that God 'saved' them from melanoma (stage II). No, he didn't. And, as I've said before, I don't appreciate people thinking they're 'saved' because God loves them, while there are beautiful, amazing, worthwhile people losing their battle - why? Because they're not good enough? They don't believe hard enough?

It's utter bullshit. Please, spare me.

Anyway, my comments on the subject earned me this highly intellectual gem...

"Heather I have read your posts on all 3 boards and it seems to me that you feel that the meaner and toughter you are then it might just scare away your cancer. It's the "can't touch me" attitude. Commonly used by patients with a serious illness in order to cope. But from the outside looking in it seems very harsh and brutal and you seem to enjoy the "shock factor."

As they say everyone has their own way of coping and this is yours. But it doesn't sound any less crazy than the Bible thumping Christians. Bu I am sure everyone is thinking "oh big bad Heather, cancer will never take her down." I hope they are right."

Okay...

I know.... I know... this person just looks a little bit... threatened... by me. They obviously have their bullshit little internet persona (totally anonnymous, btw) and judge other people by their own standards (if you could call them that) as to the the fact that they cannot be/are not REAL, so how can anybody be? I thought that too. It's basic human nature that the weak have the tendency to become jealous of that which they see, yet know they will never be.

I just thought I'd put it out there for posterity - and to give the people who REALLY know who I am the opportunity to laugh at it.

Don't you just adore amateur psychologists?

It's not like I don't know I'm going to die. I don't expect to be saved, what will be will be, all I want is a bit more time with my children and that's all it's about. I DO love the "I hope they are right." part. That pretty much says to me "Fuck off and die."

Sorry, sweetheart, not today. (Ooooorrrrrr, in a moment of dark honesty... You first.)



(Hey, "Integrity is telling myself the truth. And honesty is telling the truth to other people." I am SO going to rot in Hell. And, in the spirit of complete and utter total honesty, I have to say that at this point, I'd sell my soul to the other guy in order to see my kids grow up. In a heartbeat. But he's nowhere to be seen either...)

And, of course, the whole thing was obviously designed to cause me to second-guess myself. To shake my courage. Shatter my strength and call it into question just a little bit. Why someone would even try to do that to a stage IV cancer patient is beyond me (and bear in mind that the remarks of mine addressed in that post weren't even directed at that person, unless it's an alter-ego). It was such a cheap shot. What sort of person must they be?

Well... I already answered that. Weak.

Yes, luvvie. My WILL is what gets me through. (Didn't G. Gordon Liddy write a book entitled WILL?)

My will isn't some sort of bullshit internet tough guy/armchair commando act. People who don't know me have no way of knowing that, even before cancer, I'd been to Hell and back many times.


I was already a survivor.

I feel too, that, due to the usual bb relationship/knowing people stuff, I've probably pissed some people off. I can't do anything about that. My obligation is to myself and if I see something appalling, not saying anything because it might offend friends of the person I said it to seems far worse than speaking my mind. Other people are allowed to spew forth their bile, yet others cannot respond for fear of ruining their good name or offending the wrong people? I don't really see that. And causing offense to anyone but the person who deserved it was/is never my goal.


The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, and from motives of policy are silent when we should speak, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow into our souls.

Soooooo.... was that a rant, or was that a rant? Too much latte has so much to answer for!

Discuss or ignore, but there it is. The Ugly. Never thought I'd see it on a cancer board... I mean, yeah arguments are a part of life, but some things should be sacred and dying people is one of them.

Anyway, back to the GOOD, because the UGLY is just too freaking BORING. I wish the ugly people peace and happiness.

(BTW, Jim made me post this blog, because I was just going to delete it.)

So, dear friends...

I hope everyone had as wonderful a Thanksgiving as we did, and look forwards to telling you all Happy Thanksgiving next year!