Funk-ness

I have been feeling rather blue. Deep blue. Indigo. A fatigue that is physical, emotional, spiritual.

Not surprising, I suppose. In sixteen days I will turn sixty. Remarkable, really. I never thought I’d have the opportunity to grow old. It is a milestone, in so very many ways.

It also means that I can now say, with complete accuracy, that I have been living with lung cancer for one quarter of my life.

That’s a long time. And obviously primarily a positive–surviving has always been my objective. But it’s also really sad.

If my life is a pie, then cancer represents an enormous slice.

Choosing to become an advocate has lent my diagnosis purpose. It has been an opportunity to make some good out of what can only be characterized as a personal tragedy.

But there is much that cancer has taken that I simply cannot reclaim/override.

Innocence–mine and my children’s–financial security, the bloom of youth.

And then the loving and losing. It is both the best and the worst part of advocacy. Relationships which transcend the ordinary. Incredibly special connections, each of which has enriched life to an almost unimaginable degree. Precious. Precarious. Often fleeting.

This–and my own mortality. Each new day exhilarating but also exhausting. Life so full of possibility but also portent.

Overwhelming. Odd, glorious, awful. But also all I’ve got. This is it. This is mine. My life.

Until it’s not.

4 responses to “Funk-ness

  1. Thank you for putting your heart out there. It takes a lot of courage! Everything you write really helps me. I hope to be sixty someday.

  2. I really appreciate your posts. Your point of view is a treasure I As a survivor, I so agree. Sadly, only others on this journey can understand your point of view. Yes, it’s a blessing to survive but our lives have taken paths we never imagined. And it truly changes everything. I feel as a stage 4 survivor, it’s appropriate to say”we are all ants on a sidewalk, but peeps with cancer can see the foot”. In many ways it makes me appreciate each day, but then again reel with the unfairness of it all as others shy away from recognizing our continuing journey and expect us to simply not mention it, for their comfort.. sorry I’m rambling… know that your posts give me strength

    Best, jayne

  3. That’s all everyone has, our lives. What you have done and continue to do with yours is extraordinary and, knowing you perfectly normal. You’ve taken as much control as you can muster and shown the incredible strength, creativity and perseverance that rivals no one but those you’ve lost but still champion. I am extremely proud to be your friend. Keep at it, as I know you will. 👈🏼✊🏼❤️

  4. Thank you as always, for all you do. You remind me of all the good we humans can do, but rarely have the initiative for…… and you continue to do so much, again and again. Although I can’t imagine what it is like for you and your family, I can say you touch so many people and have given so much to so many. You remind me to never take a single moment for granted, to enjoy and smile every day and to be kind, always.
    I wish for you the brightest sunshine yellow today and thank you again for touching my life and the lives of so many others in so many ways.

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