ANNIVERSARY

For more than a month I’ve been thinking about this post.  I’ve rolled words and phrases around in my head.  I’ve tried out various analogies and stories and searched tirelessly for quotes and sayings to interject at perfect moments.  I’ve tried this. I’ve pondered that.  I worked and thought and contemplated.  And every single thing I came up with … every thought, word combo, analogy was utter crap.

Actually it was worse than crap.  It was nothing.  Zilch.  Goose egg.  I sat here with a blinking cursor and an ocean of white.  Just like Whitney – even before the cocaine took over – I’ve got nothing, nothing NOTHING! ….for this post. 

Usually I don’t do that.  Usually I don’t think about what I’m going to post.  I just sit down and write.  Most times, what I write ends up on the typepad screen and I click publish.  Sometimes what I write sits in a draft folder until I come back to it and make sense of what I started.  Rarely, if ever, do I sit down and write with an end in mind.  I do it sometimes but not usually.  And when I do, you know it.  Because you remain silent. 

It’s those lousy posts that get no comments.

But even though I don’t USUALLY write with an end in mind or for a purpose or specific reason, I thought FOR SURE today I would.  I thought I’d have a TON to say.  I thought I’d have SO MUCH to say in fact that I started weeks ago trying to say it.  Why?  Why did I think today would be so significant?  Because one year ago today I awoke from having my neck sliced open and found out I had cancer.

I belong to a message board of fellow cancer fighters and survivors.  There is a section of this board called “Life After Cancer.”  Often people on this board talk about how difficult the anniversary of their diagnosis is.  I totally get that. Anniversaries of any type are a time to think about what’s happened, what’s passed and what’s to come.  This can be devastating for a cancer patient.  Worse for a cancer survivor.  It is so hard, in fact, that many cancer survivors are now being treated for post traumatic stress disorder that usually surfaces around the anniversary of their diagnosis or treatment.  I’ve known this.  I’ve understood it.  And so I anticipated.  I anticipated the depression and heavy that would come today.  I waited.  I waited for the ptsd to hit.  For the gunky to come.  For the darkness to roll up from my toes and slam into my heart this morning when I woke.  I braced for it.  I thought through who I could talk to.  I made plans for lunch.  Heck, I even scheduled my root canal for today so I would have something else to focus on.

And then I woke up.

I worked out.

I went to the dentist.

I had a nice lunch.

I did some work for a couple of clients.

I sat in the sun for 15 minutes.

I had dinner.

And the heavy never came.

There is a well-known saying that the opposite of love is not hate.  And the opposite of hate is not love.  The opposite of both is apathy.

It’s June 13.  The anniversary of my cancer diagnosis.  And I don’t care.

Comments

[Sam]

That's a good post. Sometimes the anticipation, the latent anxiety simply never materializes. Apathy can be a pleasant place to be.

[Wendy]

So this one will get comments. Glad the heavy never came.

Was that 15 minutes on the porch? I read somewhere that you are an ace porch sitter...

[beek]

Back "then" I used to get really melancholoy around October which didn't have any big associations with it that were obvious...not Dad's death, birthday, etc. It took me a while to realize that was when basketball season used to start. You remember, those good times out in the barn...just Dad and me...bonding. Him encouraging me at the games. (That's the PC term.) Anyway, my experience? It hits at weirdo times.

Been thinking about you though. Big year just passed. I know a lot more about you, a lot more about Steve and a lot more about myself. That's what I thought about.

And then I did a node check.

I love you.

[An Outsider]

I am laughing and crying.. your blog is amazing.

I find out tomorrow if my PET was positive for cancer or if the mass in my right lung is.. heaven only knows what.. I am 38 years old.