Port's out. Now what!?

December 27, 2016, I had my port removed.  After a terrible scare in the fall, I was finally given the all-clear.  Since my first 2 PETs were clear, in October, my doctor told me they wanted to do a regular CAT scan instead of another PET.  The CAT scan came back as.... wait for it... inconclusive.  Doctor said, apologetically, the only way to know for sure was to get the PET-CT.  So I went in for that and sweated it out.  Two stressed out days and $700 out of pocket later, I got the news - no cancer.  No cancer!

Hallelujah!

For insurance reasons, I scheduled the port removal procedure for the end of 2016.  Do you know, I almost regretted it for a hot second?  Once that port comes out, you're not special any more.  With that port there, that bump, not that I ever did, but I had the opportunity to flash it.  To shove it in someone's face if they disrespected me.  It made me feel, I am ashamed but not afraid to admit, special.  Once that comes out, the special-ness is gone.  The oh-be-nice-to-her-she-has-cancer kid gloves come off.  It's back to reality now, back to the grind, back to life.  Back to being normal.  Normal, that deceptive, duplicitous word that means healthy but also means mediocre.

That's a scary thing.  No, not as scary as cancer, but it's still a thing.  What am I now, that cancer is just something that happened  to me one time?

Damn lucky, that's what I am!

Gratitude.  Gratitude always.  Gratitude for every day, for every new memory, every new breath.

Back to work.  Back to the world.  Back to being all I can be.  Back to doing what I was born to do, but now, with more power, with the strength and the fortitude and the respect that comes with surviving.  But also, with more responsibility.

I have been spared.  I did not die.  Better make it worth it.  Don't waste it.  Don't waste it now, not knowing you were born to make history.

Follow that link, my friends.  Follow that link to the most beautiful, joyful, awe and hope-inspiring thing to come out of last year.  It is the epitome of everything I am, and everything I love.

People spent a lot of time complaining about 2016 and, honestly, I sort of have to agree with them.  For all it's faults, for me however, two amazing things happened in 2016.

1) I beat cancer!
2) Yuri on Ice!!! was created.

Michael Carbonaro of The Carbonaro Effect recently spoke in an interview about two worlds, the one society presures you to believe is real, the one where you are born and expected to fit a one-size-fits-all mold and the world that actually exists, the one that contains the person you truly are.  The fact that the person you are is too big, or too complex or too difficult for someone from the boiled down world to comprehend, doesn't negate the reality of who you are.  It also does not negate the necessity of your existence.  If you're a little different than the average person, that's not a bad thing.  As he puts it:

The world needs weird.  

The tragedy of life is not everyone has the capacity to see your reality and some people will try to force you to hide it.  The beauty of live is you get to choose which image you present: the mask or the real you.

The person I am, the joyous, happy, proactive, ambitious, survivor is inspired by and reflected in Yuri on Ice!!!  That's the world I want to live in.

I choose to cheer for my competitors, because victories matter more when everyone does their best.  I choose joy.  I choose life.  I choose openness, tolerance, survival.  I choose acceptance.  I choose love.

Subsequent posts from me will most likely be over on my Novel In My Spare Time blog, because now that I have survived, I need to return to my cause.  Human trafficking doesn't stop because you get cancer.  Since I did not die, it means my work is not yet done.

Survival is a lifetime commitment.  This is why I write the book.

Survival is a Lifetime Commitment

I caught a cold in May.  I was on vacation, spending a lot of time outside in damp, chilly weather and I caught a cold.  This cold came with a cough.  I panicked.  Did this feel like the cough I had last year?  The cough I had that I thought was a cold and turned out to be cancer!?  I couldn't remember.  I tried to remember what that cough felt like in comparison to other regular cold coughs I'd had in the past and I couldn't do it.  I mean, who remembers coughs?

Not only that, it had been a year and a half since I'd had a regular cold, and who remembers things that happen 18 months ago?

So, I panicked and started stressing.  Stress?  Oh no.  Stress is bad.  Cancer loves stress, almost as much as sugar.  And cancer really, really loves sugar.  Don't stress about your cancer coming back.  Don't stress about stressing about your cancer coming back.  See what I'm trying to say here?  This survival/remission thing is hard.  Being a survivor isn't something that happens in a second and then you're over it.  It's a status you have to wake up and fight for, pray for, eat right for, stay calm for, the rest of your life.

Worth it?  Oh totally.  Of course.  But that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

I went to my oncologist as soon as I got home.  He told me I had a cold and the cough would go away in a few days.  Yeah, I'd heard that before.  About this time last year, right before my cancer diagnosis!

Anyway, I nodded and smiled and went to see my Second Opinion doctor in the big city.  He told me I had a cold.  I told him, "Yeah, but what if-" and he stopped me right there.  He held up a hand, gave me one of those admonishing, I-know-more-about-this-than-you-do side-eyes and issued the following wise, sage advice, totally befitting his station as one of the leading lymphoma specialists in the country.  Ready?  Ready for a flash of insight and free advice from this learned and brilliant physician?  Here's what he said:

"Don't be that person."

He then proceeded to laugh at me, and escorted me out of his office telling me he had "actual sick people" to visit.

You know what though?  He was right.  He was totally freaking right.  Worrying doesn't solve anything.  Though it's possible it can make things worse, it has no power to make anything better.  It's useless.

Does this mean I'm cured of worry now?  Of course not.  I'm working on it.  Day by day.  Just like I'm working on surviving, day by day.

PS: The cough?  Yeah, it went away in a couple days.