Alright, I’m on a roll. Critical, negative, a bit whiny. Generally not the way to get elected class president.
It’s a trait I’ve had since childhood. I am not complacent and I do not hesitate to speak up when I feel that a situation is unjust. A nice way of saying I am often the first to complain.
That’s why I identify as an activist, rather than an advocate (too squishy for me). And I have no interest in being a poster child—for lung cancer, or anything else. It’s absolutely important to me to keep it real, and as time has gone on, my courage in this arena has only grown.
Some years back I was given the stage at the annual LUNGevity HOPE Summit in DC. Foolishly, I tried to give it a go minus a script. My presentation went off the rails quickly, with me proclaiming to the crowd that I would ‘never be anybody’s bitch.’
As I left the platform I was thinking I’d never be invited back. I certainly offended some people (because, of course, that’s not all I said that day) but overall, the response was receptive. And my transition from grateful advocate (thank you thank you thank you) to crusading activist (gratitude with a dollop of angry on top) had begun.
For better or worse, I am nobody’s bitch. At least in spirit. In reality, I am under the thumb of quite a few entities. Trial sponsor, landlord, taxman. It is what it is and I am what I am. A squeaky wheel, square pegged, outspoken mutant. Generally easy to like. Definitely hard to kill. And certainly impossible to silence.