You’re diagnosed with a terminal illness and you must ask yourself the following question: what would you do differently in your life or change about your life so If any week might be your last you’d be happy with it or at the very least okay with that week?
I asked my husband this very question. To which he reacted with a sense of injustice. “That’s not a fair question.”
I don’t agree. No, every day isn’t a great day…that much is true.
Here’s a snippet of an argument:
Harsh realities too bad
I’m having a lot of trouble with this, hon, can’t we just talk?
You’re in no position to just talk. You’re not supporting us.
He needs to be on stronger depression medications just to simply be around me
I’m getting worse to be around
But I am great to be away from yet he wouldn’t be with me if I weren’t sick.
He can’t stand to be around me, lately.
And has no idea why I’m even with him.
But…We get along. Seriously.
However, built upon the foundation of modern western culture insure to that. Due to no fault of our own all of us were born into a time of rampant materialism. Noting we buy delivers on its promise of satisfaction. There’s the cliché small print that spells out a guarantee of no satisfaction. What it does guarantee: you’ll never see any money back should anything go awry. A broken warranty means simply using the product breaks the rules.
I’m broken. He cannot return me to a store, although I suppose he could leave me. But what a mess. And I still take care it so much for him, he cries occasionally: what will I do without you! Meaning -my cooking, my housekeeping, my all embracing hugs, my laundry prowess.
A manufacturer’s guarantee is akin to cancer in some ways. By living in our bodies with the environment at a time of great threat to its mere existence, we are swimming in chemicals and stress and we’ve not evolved to handle it nor should we.Read this article from Commonweal regarding reduction of chemicals in our environment.
Susceptible to Infections
The point I’m trying to get across is that by merely living in a physical body we are very highly susceptible to illness and specifically cancer. The warranty on our physical body while living in the post industrial, sedentary, sugar infused world with melting ice caps and chemicals in our air, water, and food there’s no guarantee of any kind.
With that in mind, ask yourself what would you do differently if anything given your own personal special circumstances even if you’re not hiding “a cancer” if you were to be diagnosed with a terminal illness? By the way, I deplore that phrase – the article in front of cancer removes it from our body’s boundaries giving it a life of sorts.
But hey, don’t worry.
Be happy. The year now 2021 – and now we’ve come so far as to have lived through a pandemic that’s still the bane of many an MBC enduerer’s existence (not to leave out anyone who’s also got a terminal illness but we tend to swim with our own kind when we are diagnosed for the shorthand we develop for quick understanding like chemo brain, and well, I forget the rest but you get my point).
Caught in a trap…suspicious minds
Trapped at home, through no fault of our own, due to our battered immune systems we wait out our turns for a vaccine. A shot or two developed so quickly it makes one think about our diseases. What the hell is taking so long to develop drugs to keep us chronic and alive a la AIDS, rather than becoming terminally ill upon diagnosis. Kept further apart from humanity again because of an incurable, rather painful disease.
As March roars for its wintery last puffs of snow coming this week, I recover from my recent covid19 vaccine. In hindsight I hope my appreciation for the life that cancer helped me find enough foresight to live in this moment in a way that’s just right for me. And I got the vaccine knowing it could have demanding physical repercussions.
I dodged that bullet. I’m fact having a break from my daily Verzenio – and my red blood cells began repopulating my bloodstream giving me back some of my energy. But I can’t overdo it. My tummy began filling up with ascites (see a few posts in this blog by searching up Ascites in the search tool right here.)
Stuck in the middle with you
So this will suck again. My pants are tight, I’m feeling uncomfortable and my feet are swelling. If you have ever been blown up like a waterbed, the draining process is exactly like it. But of course I’ll keep you posted – PET Scan next week – oh joy, head to toe and the anxiety It will bring over potential brain Mets.
Isn’t that what we all worry about when we get a head to toe scan? Those horrible metastases that could possibly go to our brains? The ones that we fear the most? Although medical science has come quite far and the cyber knife as well as other ablative mechanisms take care of them quite well. In fact better than mets that travel to most of the other organs are bodies. So nothing to worry about.