2 posts tagged “diagnosis”

So I dedicate this anniversary to you, for each day you've all fought so hard to win.  You've all helped me on my way to this anniversary and I hope and pray you'll be with me at future ones.

I spent a day in Napa this past weekend and raised a few glasses of champagne to you and all the survivors and caregivers everywhere.  

Love, strength, peace, and grace to all!

People wish me well all the time, but I don't think I've ever seen such a beaming look of real hope and joy as the expression worn by my podiatrist when he said he was glad I was doing so well.  He was genuinely impressed by my attitude, he said, and he told me about how he's always wanted to blow glass, all through college and biochemistry.  Good thing, too, because he was performing ancient chinese torture on my toe as he spoke warmly about how I shouldn't go back to work and if I did, it should be at Peet's Coffee.  All I remember was how truly happy he seemed that I was still here and trying to have a good time at it.  That made me feel amazing, strangely enough.

It's funny because I'm the serious one in the family.  My mom and sister always tell me how much I stress over and internalize things, dwell on/can't let things go, and how I go over the top on doing things for people.  I'm not funny, like the rest of the family either.  And yet, people always comment on my cheerful disposition.  Am I just pretending, or am I actually relatively cheerful? 

Maybe it's both.  Whatever's going on in my head is well-hidden by my ability to discuss superficial things.  Being glum is boring, energy-consuming, and a total buzz-kill, and it's not in my nature to be glum really.  I do, however, like solitude quite a bit, and nurture it, which may be why I can be cheerful when I am faced with people.  

Anyway, it was two years ago on June 15th when I received my diagnosis.  I was in my empty courtroom with a friend, having lunch, when the call came in.  The doctor wanted me to go in and I said, "Why, so you can tell me what I've already figured out?"  He was aghast at my relatively calm, even petulant, demeanor.  Little did I know that it wasn't going to be just a matter of having half a lung removed and chemo, etc.  I thought, Ok, I'll go through all the rigamarole, and I'll be fine.  It never occur to me that I might be "incurable", or even "terminal".  I wasn't falling down or anything, I'd never even been hospitalized (and still haven't).  I was so clueless.  There was lots of crying after two visits with the first oncologist.  Luckily I had the presence of mind to find a new one and move facilities.  Just remember, you have choices (well, some)!!

I'm supposed to be running errands and all sorts of busy body things, but I think I'm gonna take it easy and go to Alameda for a walk.  Yeah it's 10 miles away, but it seems like a nice thing to do to celebrate 2 years.