Another Friday night.

I know it's petty of me to think thusly, but I can't help but wish I was out dancing and drinking and flirting and doing all those typical twenty-year old things that I usually treat with disdain. I just thought I'd share that when the disparate worlds of cancer patient and twenty-something collide, the result is typically a lot of wishful thinking.

It's actually quite difficult to reconcile the two groups. Around age twenty is typically when we begin to lean towards independence and to scope out the "real world." Many of my friends are living away from home this summer; some are even abroad. This is the beginning of one of the freest and most exciting times of our lives. But then to be told you have cancer, to be treated for cancer, most of your independence is taken from you. This isn't specific to me, either. Many of the other young adults I've met who have cancer have shared this sentiment: you desperately want to be on your own, but, realistically, you need to become again somewhat of a dependent. I know I would pretty much never do my laundry... You also need to accept that there are necessary sacrifices to be made in order to get well, which is probably the hardest part. I'm not tremendously stupid, so I'm not going to go and put myself in a situation where I could get sick, as much as I would love to go to the Dave Matthews Band concert this Sunday. (side note: I really, really want to go). But the part of me that was forced to grow up, the rational part of me, is telling the twenty-year old in me that it's only two more months, and Dave Matthews will still be on tour after this summer.

So basically, these are some of my Friday night ruminations. I doubt these issues are pertinent to many people; I think they are fairly cancer-specific. But there you have it: welcome to my mind. Although I can't leave out my relief that I have this whole next week free of clinic. Nice. Peace.