Irony & Timing
Today has been a day of change and reflection.
Not really very surprising. At least once an hour, a friend either calls or emails with their own thoughts and best wishes. One friend will be at the top of a mountain during my surgery, and will look out over three states and think of me. Other friends are more scared than I am. And others sound like generals, encouraging me to fight. I feel totally loved.
Today, I am mostly struck by the irony of the timing of this disease. At 46, I was finally coming to grips with who I am. [Yea, I am a late bloomer.] I was liking who I have become, and was starting to celebrate what is good about me, instead of always dwelling on my shortcomings. And I do have shortcomings. I don't tolerate stupidity well, I am impatient, I can't stand rap and most of what passes for popular culture, I dislike misogynists and refuse to play along, I am terrible at chit-chat and I have no tolerance for hypocrisy.
I was coming to grips with my genetics and accepting that I was just going to be 20 lbs overweight. I had come to appreciate my nutty hair and just let it do whatever it wanted. I was okay with my impatience with stupidity, but working on being more patient with the uninformed. I tried to focus on the good of my person. I have a wonderful, if quirky, sense of humor, I am a loyal friend, I am good at solving my clients problems, I play Beethoven and Mozart really well, my bow technique is darn good, I am becoming a very good cook, and I love sharing my house and the resulting meals with friends and family.
I am ready for my daughter to go to college, and revel in her happiness at moving to the next step. I love our new home with its garden, open rooms and odd kitchen. Since moving here, I have felt connected to my environment. I was content and was beginning to find my joy once again.
I didn't need a diagnosis of cancer to remember to notice and enjoy the small things, or to hold my family close to me, or any of this pyscho-babble I have been reading on cancer support sites. I had that down!
But on this, the last night before the surgery, I am serene. I am ready to begin treating these darn misbehaving cells.
Not really very surprising. At least once an hour, a friend either calls or emails with their own thoughts and best wishes. One friend will be at the top of a mountain during my surgery, and will look out over three states and think of me. Other friends are more scared than I am. And others sound like generals, encouraging me to fight. I feel totally loved.
Today, I am mostly struck by the irony of the timing of this disease. At 46, I was finally coming to grips with who I am. [Yea, I am a late bloomer.] I was liking who I have become, and was starting to celebrate what is good about me, instead of always dwelling on my shortcomings. And I do have shortcomings. I don't tolerate stupidity well, I am impatient, I can't stand rap and most of what passes for popular culture, I dislike misogynists and refuse to play along, I am terrible at chit-chat and I have no tolerance for hypocrisy.
I was coming to grips with my genetics and accepting that I was just going to be 20 lbs overweight. I had come to appreciate my nutty hair and just let it do whatever it wanted. I was okay with my impatience with stupidity, but working on being more patient with the uninformed. I tried to focus on the good of my person. I have a wonderful, if quirky, sense of humor, I am a loyal friend, I am good at solving my clients problems, I play Beethoven and Mozart really well, my bow technique is darn good, I am becoming a very good cook, and I love sharing my house and the resulting meals with friends and family.
I am ready for my daughter to go to college, and revel in her happiness at moving to the next step. I love our new home with its garden, open rooms and odd kitchen. Since moving here, I have felt connected to my environment. I was content and was beginning to find my joy once again.
I didn't need a diagnosis of cancer to remember to notice and enjoy the small things, or to hold my family close to me, or any of this pyscho-babble I have been reading on cancer support sites. I had that down!
But on this, the last night before the surgery, I am serene. I am ready to begin treating these darn misbehaving cells.
posted by *susan* at
9:43 PM
2 Comments:
Thinking of you tonight.
I know all will go well and will be fine!
Jimmy Faivre
By
Anonymous, at 11:25 PM
Susan, when you return to read this, you will be cancer free. They will have surgically removed the cancer from your body, and you will be able to say "I HAD cancer." I am celebrating with you! Kristina
By
Kristina, at 11:42 PM
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