Saturday, March 24, 2012

87 - 6 Years After Diagnosis

Since this blog was created as an outlet concerning my breast cancer experiences, I tend not to write about most other things.  As time goes by, fewer parts of my life still connect to breast cancer, so I write fewer posts.

I think the most relevant thing I can contribute today is that this month saw my 6-year anniversary of diagnosis -- am I'm still doing great.

Last year three women I knew died from breast cancer:  Michelle Bynum, Joni Sudduth, and Deb Akers.

So while I'm cheerfully in the "no evidence of disease" group, I don't celebrate too loudly or with too much confidence.  Instead, I just live consciously with gratitude that I'm still alive.  That I'm not in pain from cancer attacking my bones, lungs, liver, or brain.

Last year breast cancer took a Pink Ribbon Cowgirl (Michelle) from a young son not much older than my own.  It took a former co-worker (Joni) whose fiance left after she was diagnosed because he couldn't handle the stress during her treatment.  It took a poet and retired special-ed teacher (Deb) who edited the children's poetry anthology each year for AIPF (Austin International Poetry Festival).  I really miss Deb.

My life this last year has been challenging in a good way.

I've been growing professionally in leaps and bounds as I've taught myself new skills and expanded my confidence in the work I do.  I have gained respect within my company and have become a highly sought-after source of guidance and advice for Excel-based initiatives.  I'm the happiest I've ever been.

We got a puppy last year in July.  Kelric insisted on naming him Ron Weasley so we now have a Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier dog named after Harry Potter's best friend.  Mostly we just call him "Ron."  The biggest trouble with I'm-Still-A-Puppy Ron is that he just loves to chew up the little plastic Lego pieces Careless Kelric leaves lying within reach.  The biggest joy around Ron is watching him run.  Man, that dog can run!  Plus he's super soft, and looks like a cuddly, fluffy teddy bear.

My husband and I love having a dog again.  Kelric isn't so sure.  Ron plays a bit too hard for a 6-year-old boy.  Accidents involving scratches and bruises are common when they play together.

While 2011 saw the loss of three women I knew, 2011 also put me in touch with three men from my past.  One had been a friend a long time ago.  His second wife had divorced him and he never recovered.  He pined away for his lost love and eventually died.  His family won't tell his friends the truth, but they strongly suspect he took his own life.

I found myself contemptous that a man with a genius-level IQ would allow a failed marriage to cause him to give up on life.  I went through hell to make sure I'd get to stick around for my husband and our little boy while this other person stopped showing up for work, stopped responding to people who cared about him, and just let his life go to hell while he wallowed in depression.  He lost his house and his dignity.  He held onto his precious cynicism, though.  I can remember how, some 17 years ago when in his 30's, he seemed to have a keen insight into people and what made them tick.  He loved astronomy and space because those mysteries weren't so easily penetrated as the minds of his bosses and co-workers.  At least the coldness of space wasn't personal.

My personal feelings on the matter aren't so sharp now that I've had over half a year to adjust, but I still feel the stirrings of anger and disgust that this man would let a failed relationship shatter him so thoroughly.  Because make no mistake - his life was shattered because he believed it should be.  He made a choice, and ultimately he chose death over life.  He didn't have a disease causing horrible pain within his body.  His pain was in the heart, in his mind over the death of the potential happiness he had once envisioned.  He had a choice, and his choice was different than mine would have been.

I guess life is only precious when you make it so.

Two ex-boyfriends of mine reached out last year.  My, how the internet changes things!  You can stay in touch more easily with casual acquaintances and you can sometimes track down old flames.

One man was someone better forgotten.  He inflicted enough damage during our 2 1/2 years together that I could fill a book with true stories of lies, warped truths, and emotional ravaging.  He tried to trip me once as I walked down a short flight of stairs and then followed it with a sharp shove that nearly pushed me into a brick wall, and then had the audacity to say later that it was my fault he did those things.  He heaped emotional abuse upon me until my hair was falling out from the stress.  He alienated me from family and friends until I had no one left to talk to but him.  He hurt me in one way or another every week for the eternity we were together and drove my self-esteem to an all-time low.  It took me years to recover from his abuse, and years more to become the strong woman I am today.  The dumbest thing I ever did was to let him into my life and the smartest realization I ever had was that moment of lightening when I decided I would rather live the rest of my life alone than spend one more day with him.

Then last year he sends me this cheerful little message through Facebook that he hoped I was well and wondered how I was doing.

Nice.

You know?  It's better not to play with sociopaths.  When he wrote a second time (since I didn't respond the first time) I discouraged further contact.  Some people from the past belong ever so firmly In. The. Past.

Last year a different ex-boyfriend tracked me down last year and sent me an apology for our last conversation.  He had wanted to express his regret for the last 16 years and finally had a chance to set things straight.

The irony of it was that I hadn't held a grudge, didn't really remember our last conversation, and hadn't had a moment's trouble over it.  I was, however, glad to hear from him because I had wondered from time to time what had happened to him and it was nice to renew that connection.  Since I'm happily married I realized that strengthening that connection would become a sore spot for my husband.  I certainly wouldn't be thrilled if my husband suddenly began exchanging regular messages with an ex-girlfriend, so I resisted the tempation to make this ex my newest best friend.

Still, when you've known someone who is a decent person in the world and you wish that person well, it's nice to know that the person is still around and still trying to be the best he can be.

I admire people who stick their necks out to follow their beliefs.  I appreciate the courage of standing by your personal moral code when things get uncomfortable to do so.  I have a high school classmate whose Facebook page makes it clear that her choices of diet and personal purchases factor in where things came from and how ethically animals/employees are treated.  I think she's awesome.  But I'm not going to start thoroughly researching the companies I buy from the way she does.

That's my choice.

Now it's late at night.  If I'm smart I'll choose to go to bed soon.  And I suppose to should post this blog entry now unless I want to rediscover it again six months from now.  Instead, that's when I'll sweep through it for any grammatical corrections that remain.  Sounds like a plan.

86 Come Together

Looks like I wrote this on 9/11/2011.  What a shame I left it in Edit mode until now.  Honestly, I forgot about it.  (Sigh.)  Like so many areas of my life, things are undone.  Incomplete.


Today is the 10-year anniversary of 9/11.

I remember being at work that morning, how I was on the phone with a local vendor and she commented that a plane had just flown into one of the Twin Towers in New York.  I speculated that it must have been an accident.  She didn't think so.  Then the second plane hit and the surrealism of the day ramped up.  I remember the small television that was brought into the conference room and left to play news throughout the day -- how we'd check in now and then to learn the latest horrifying tidbits and how the newscasters could only speculate since the facts were largely unknown.  Once we Americans realized we had been attacked by terrorists, we responded like a nest of angry hornets.

I remember being in traffic at a light and seeing the firemen passing the boot to collect for the victims of 9/11, and how I started to weep in my car at the powerful unity this represented.  I was in Texas and we were collecting donations for New York.  The desire to render aid reached every corner of the country.

Right now in the nearby town of Bastrop, TX people are still fighting a massive wildfire that began last weekend over the Labor Day holiday.  So far the fire is 50 percent contained.  It has destroyed over 34,000 acres and more than 1,550 homes.  I feel pride in our local community as people are coming together to help the victims of the fire.  There have been fundraisers and collections of useful items at my workplace and my son's school.  I saw a collection bin at my nearest Starbucks and my favorite radio station regularly gives out websites and names of organizations that can help.  I know of at least one family who is hosting fire evacuees and several others who are working to find shelter for horses and family pets affected by the fire.

I've seen people write about how Americans come together in times of trouble.  I think this sentiment is a bit limiting.

I think it's PEOPLE who come together in times of trouble.

I don't believe that this level of compassion and kindness rests solely with my country or with the culture around me.  It also doesn't extend only to natural disasters or acts of terrorism.  I've seen this compassion before.  It rose all around me when I had cancer.  It rises again each time another sister joins the Pink Ribbon Cowgirls.  It rises when somebody needs help and when somebody else is in a position to give that help.

I wish we could keep the unity and the love for fellow humans flowing like this all the time.  That will never happen, but I wish for it just the same.

The wonderful folk duo Trout Fishing in America has a song I adore titled No Matter What Goes Right.  This is the chorus:

No matter what goes right
I will still be loving you
No matter what goes right
I will stand by you

When couple fight their troubles
It unites their hearts
When the good times roll
They can drift apart

I'll still be loving you
No matter what goes right

So here's to remembering the heroism and the losses that are part of 9/11/2001 . . .
Here's to fighting the fire in Bastrop and rebuilding . . .
Here's to fighting all manner of illness and disease and finding more ways to prevent and control the threats to health . . .
And here's to unity of purpose to of loving our neighbors as ourselves, of working towards the greater good, even when there are no cancer, no floods, no fires, no tsunamis, no hurricanes, and no attacks to bring us together . . . 

We humans have caused terrible damage and accomplished amazing things by working together.  We won't know what true peace on any part of earth means until we learn to love each other no matter what goes right.  It seems we are destined to continue fumbling along, tearing down and rebuilding.  You know the energy that pours into helping each other is not sustainable.  You give and you help and then you need time to recharge.

Perhaps -- just perhaps -- if more people carried the thread of working towards a greater good and held that sentiment more dear than "take care of me and my own before all others" then this world would be a nicer place to live.  In the meantime, no matter what goes wrong or right, I'll focus on loving my husband and child and helping others when and where I can.

Angela