Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): We are 16 days away from chop chop. I meet with my oncologist this Friday. I am guessing we will be discussing surgery, next steps, and my CT scan results. On a more fun note, I will be part of a little display during the rodeo in support of the Tri-Cities Cancer Center Thursday evening. I have no idea what I am doing but I am excited to be part of whatever is planned! I am also going to Seattle this weekend to visit a friend and look forward to relaxing a bit before I am trapped in my mental personal hell.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I only go to the fair if I can score free tickets. It is a fun game I play with my co-worker/good friend every year. We somehow have managed to score them for the last several years (excluding the last two years due to the pandemic) and we always do the same thing: visit all the animals and get an elephant ear from the Rotary booth. It is a nice little tradition. We don’t ride any of the rides. We don’t play games. We just have one goal and that is to smell like a cow and be covered in sweet cinnamon sugar crumbles.

This year I am visiting the fair without her because she is having brain surgery tomorrow for the second time. I will have to eat an elephant ear in her honor on Thursday. If anyone has free tickets next year, let us know so we can treat ourselves to surviving another year of our bodies wanting to kill us. I think we deserve it.

I’ve had a hard time wanting to blog lately. Life feels like being stuck in a blender and someone keeps adding shit. You wonder when enough is enough in this shit smoothie. Cancer. Death. Pain. All mixed in with coconut milk to make palatable. How else will you swallow and accept what has happened? I don’t want to accept a lot of it, but this is reality. Time to drink up. There has been a lot to process and a lot I don’t think I quite know how to put into words still.

There was a moment at the funeral last week when folks from the audience were given time to stand up and share a quick story about my aunt. As the stories flowed, I knew I was going to stand up. I coached myself through my story and I felt confident I could share it tear-free and quickly so that other folks may be encouraged to share after me. The room was packed, with people standing outside of the seated room. I stood up, said who I was, and how I was related and boom… tears streamed down my face and choked me. But the most unexpected thing happened: my uncle walked over, hugged me, and held my hand the entire time I shared the final memories I had with my aunt. I shared when she stole my chemo pod and our last interaction on July 14. It was a powerful moment that was the closest I can describe as feeling cathartic and healing.

Sharing those stories felt like leeching myself and sucking out the pain. Nobody in that room except for maybe my mom and anyone else with cancer could possibly understand the strangeness of the bond that comes between two people experiencing cancer together. We hated that we were doing chemo together. It was fucked up, but we were doing it together.

I’ve talked about it before feeling like a windowed box lowered into hell. I am trapped in the box and everyone is outside of the box, watching and cheering me on, but ultimately it is a journey and a battle I make alone. And it also feels like constantly walking with death, maybe even gambling with the reaper. Although my aunt and I never discussed this, we didn’t have to. We knew. At any time the cells can erupt and become unpredictable and uncontrollable, a violence that is unforgivable. The unforgivable happened to her and we were once again reminded of our mortality and the preciousness of life on this planet and in this lifetime.

Death is awful and funerals are sad, but I will say it was nice to see my family gathered together. Folks came up to me after the service, sending well wishes as I fight cancer, which I felt awkward about since I had to out myself having cancer in order to share my stories about my aunt. I really try not to talk about my cancer in public since I am not trying to get pity or anything, it just is this stupid thing I happen to be going through.

One lady came up to me and asked, “Are you the woman with the breast cancer?” I want to make that my bio everywhere now. It made me laugh. My favorite part of the service was when my younger sister and I were judging the desserts and deciding which ones we wanted to sample when we accidentally brushed a woman behind us. We were apologetic and her response was wild: “I haven’t had that much action in ten years!” We busted out laughing and Cassidy offered to make another pass at her but she either didn’t hear her response or rejected the weird funeral flirtation. Either way, it was a memorable highlight.

Most of my weekend was spent with family since my older sister flew in for the funeral but I am getting back into the rhythm of exercise. I did something nuts: I went to a BodyPump class Saturday for the first time in four and a half months, a mere 16 days after my last chemo. It was EXHILARATING! No doubt it was hard and I am struggling with motor coordination, speed, and stamina, but I only missed a handful of reps. I used warm up weight the whole time but damn I was proud of my body!! I have plans to go once more on September 3 before my chop chop surgery for anyone who wants to come. I have ambitions of climbing the hard side of Badger Mountain once before surgery as well, but it really just depends on my toe nail that needs to fall off. Shoes hurt right now with it still semi intact.

I am entering a season of grief and learning that in love there is grief and that this healing process I am in (physically, mentally, and spiritually) is not linear. I have more to endure and that is to come, but all I can do is process what I can and take each day one day at a time.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Florence and the Machine.

“And the only solution was to stand and fight
And my body was bruised and I was set alight
But you came over me like some holy rite
And although I was burning, you’re the only light
Only if for a night”

– Only If For A Night, Florence and the Machine