Friday, March 19, 2010

A confession.

A few days ago I wrote that I was doing splendidly and moving on with my life, etc., etc.  Which is all fine and well and good and mostly true.  However, on rereading said post, it occurs to me that A: I come off as super narcissistic and B: there are a lot of things I did not mention that deserve to be mentioned.

In response to qualm A, well, it is my b-log, so I suppose I am entitled to write about my goings on.  My problem with the post stems from the fact that, as written, it "tells" rather than "shows" how I feel, which pretty much directly violates the instructions of every writing class I have ever taken.  The writing is bland, boring.  Some of my posts from bygone days have literally made me laugh out loud or physically cringe when I reread them.  Tuesday's post makes me want to cringe too, but not in the good, oh that is some crazy descriptive writing there, way.  It is funny because it was all pretty much good news; I just totally dropped the ball with the writing.  To my college-sophomore COM 201 writing professor, I apologize.  Thanks for passing me.

As to qualm B...  Here is the truth:  I am going a bit nuts.  Don't worry; I haven't started talking to the little men who live under my bed.  I have, however, not run in over two weeks.  As in, almost Three weeks!  Three weeks??  And the shameful reality is there is a small demon voice in my head whispering no way I'll be able to train to actually run 26.2 miles.  Two weeks ago my three months of relative health caught up with me, and whatever bug has been zooming around my family and coworkers found its way into my system.  Coughing, sneezing, labored breathing, the whole usual bit.  And then a few days ago, just as I was feeling better, the sickness resurfaced in my sinuses.  It is currently residing in my nose and lungs, but it is also slowly diminishing.  So.  The point is that I haven't run for the past two weeks with good reason.  The problem is that I am too hard on myself.  Par for the course.

The broader picture: I find it very interesting to read and hear some of the motivation offered to us runners with Team in Training.  Obviously, I support Team in Training and what they do and where they direct their funds.  But I would be interested to hear from or talk to other runners who have actually survived their own diagnosis of a blood cancer.  I would like to know why they are running, what motivates them.  Personally, I am running for me, to prove to myself that this is something I can do.  I would assume (possibly incorrectly) that many of those running with Team in Training (who have not had cancer) are running for someone else (who has).  Please do not misunderstand me: I chose TNT because of their mission, because I know some amazing people who have been diagnosed with leukemia or lymphoma, and their struggles pretty much tear my heart apart.  No One should get cancer, and if I have to run to do my part to help eradicate it, then so be it.  I am just struggling with will and motivation.  This may sound strange, but other people's running provides me with a lot of motivation.  I have been stocking up on different runners' memoirs and crazy accounts and histories of races.  The science behind running is my motivation, nutrition, the effects running has on our bodies.  Does that make me strange?  Probably, a little.  Whatever I have though, is it enough to get me out the door every morning when my knee is killing me and I have a Nyquil hangover?  Is it selfish to think, "Hey, I've been there, done that cancer thing.  I am not running for the cancer"?  So much, then, for empathy.

And finally, a few weeks ago, I was flattered and honored to be asked to speak at an annual young-adult cancer conference at Dana-Farber, the "I'm Too Young for This" conference (not associated with the i2y organization; just a funny coincidence of names).  Three weeks from tomorrow, I will be standing in front of a crowd of young adults who will probably think I am some kind of nutter and wonder if they can get their money back for this free conference.  Self-deprecation will abound!  Thinly-veiled requests for a job from the sponsors will fly!  And somewhere buried deep in my speech will be a desperation to connect, to make an observation or raise an issue that will resonate with whomever hasn't yet fallen asleep.  Surely, with everything I have experienced, I can find something to say that won't be total bollux...  But we'll see.  I still have to write the speech.

And so that's my real b-log update.  Tuesday's post may have been true and all that, but those were just words.  This here is good, solid, unresolved conflict in my brain.  Happy Spring.  Peace.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The mysterious case of the missing blogger...

Resolved!  I apologize for, yet again, dropping off the board for a while.  Although, when I don't blog, it is mainly because I don't have anything cancer-related to report.  Which means - and this is important - my cancer diagnosis and treatment are rapidly becoming another part of my past.  This past is hugely important to me, and it has pretty much defined who I have become, but it also no longer controls my present.  My anger at my personal cancer has basically disappeared; my body is back to normal; my energies are focused elsewhere in my life.

I am a year and a half finished with my treatment, and as of one week ago, I am still cancer free (!) and clear for another six months of straight chilling.  I do need to note, however, that I have chosen to make cancer a part of my life.  Perhaps "chosen" is a strong word, but after everything I have gone through, I have found that I cannot just ignore the fact that I had cancer and move on with my life in some unrelated direction.  I volunteer with Imerman Angels; I am looking for a job working at a non-profit; I am running for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society!  The social effects of my illness have made me realize that I can use my experiences to help others, and I want to help.

So, cancer, I hope you have enjoyed your day in the sun, because your influence on my day-to-day living has ended.  I would like to thank you for everything that you have given me: amazing new friends, countless opportunities to help others, a voice with which to blog, a level of maturity and self-awareness I might not have found for years.  For all this and more, I thank you.  I know everyone's cancer-story is unique, and many people possibly don't share my sentiments towards this disease.  All things considered, I got off pretty easy.  A little depression here, some hair loss there, but I've gotten through it and am stronger for having survived.  I can only hope that people with a similar situation can one day have a similar response to their cancer.  That's the funny thing about this world: it keeps turning, the days keep coming, and all we can do is respond so that hopefully we can enjoy the days we have.  Or something.

It has been a super long winter for me, and my words cannot do justice to how happy I am to finally see things growing again.  To run outside.  To (hopefully) invest in a mountain bike and pedal all over these crazy suburbs.  So that's what is up here.  Happy Tuesday, sad toad.