Changing the World in Yesterday's Makeup

I’ve decided that the title of my memoir will be “Changing the World in Yesterday’s Makeup”. Nothing profound there…it just so exemplifies the status of my life these days. So much to do and so little time. Never enough time to spend with my sister and my precious niece and nephews. Never enough time on my horse. Never enough time to say the thousands of thank-yous that need to be said in a personal and meaningful way. The thing about living with the OC—and especially in the last month as I have had to wake up every morning and really confront the reality that for each one of us, our days are numbered—is that life both speeds up and slows down. On the one hand, there is so much still to do. Life is frenetic—every hour spent sleeping is an hour not spent having one last chance to do one last amazing thing. If nothing else, the last seven years have given me the most amazing appreciation for the beauty of every single moment. That is a priceless gift that I would not trade. Having said that, I often ask God if there isn’t an easier way to that realization. Why does it take such a keen awareness of running out of time to make you value it so much? And yet, as my life is racing ahead and I am frantically cramming experience after experience into it, things are also slowing down. I am making peace. And that, as odd as it sounds, is an eerie feeling. There’s almost a resignation to it that my head is finding hard to accept. Saying “I love yous”, saying “goodbyes”, prioritizing what I want to see one last time. There’s a beauty in it because it is so intentional, so deliberate. What a blessing to be able to truly say, “I have righted my wrongs. I have my faced my fears. I have let those who matter know that they matter.” But it also sort-of takes the mystery out of wondering what comes next. In my heart, I’ve still got a cabin in Alaska calling my name for a year or two. I’m still waiting to get picked to work at McMurdo Bay in Antarctica. My soulmate is still out there and we still need to join the Peace Corp and learn to speak Spanish. But then, there is so much to leave behind and so little chance to wake up surrounded by the ones I love, in the town I love, doing work for people I love. These, my friends, are the questions that we would all be asking if we started living as if our days were numbered. These are the questions that really can’t be answered because the point is really just in the asking. And so, for now, I won’t slow down long enough to wash my face before my head hits the pillow each night. That is one thing I can control—I can decide to forego skincare for ten more minutes of soaking it all in. I think it’s an awesome trade—just don’t tell my dermatologist.

Pity, Party of 1--Your table is ready!

I have been both counting my blessings this weekend and, if I am honest, feeling kind-of sorry for myself. Most of the time, I realize that living with the OC is just a part of this rock star beautiful life I lead. It doesn’t really do any good to play the “what if” game. You know how that game goes: What if I hadn’t gotten cancer? What if I had gone to the doctor three months earlier? What if I had realized I wasn’t feeling well instead of chalking it up to work stress? And on and on and on… I don’t usually let my head go there. As with most things in life, it simply “is what it is”—and most of the time, it’s pretty darn great. But for some reason I have been sad this weekend. My head keeps wanting to pull me into what I have missed while accommodating this disease for the past 7 years (happy cancer anniversary to me this month!). To handle just these kind of days, I made a deal with myself long ago: for every problem you identify, you must sit with yourself until you find a corresponding blessing. The craziest thing about this exercise is, that if I do it in reverse, I can almost never find enough problems to match my blessings. Here’s how it works: Ten Beautiful Things About Living with the OC: 1) When given an opportunity to show great kindness, people almost always rise to the occasion. 2) It is possible to find moments of Joy in almost every situation. 3) Because people listen differently to what you say, your life can be an example of hope to many. 4) You realize that through your weakness, you become powerful. 5) You feel incredibly loved every moment of every day. 6) You have the man upstairs on the bat phone. He always picks it up. 7) Chemo makes you skinny…so you can eat ice cream and queso whenever you want! 8) You have the opportunity to live your life in such a way that you will leave it with no regrets. 9) You learn the value of every single day and you don’t take even one for granted. 10) One day you wake up and realize that no matter what happens, everything will be okay. And now the Ten Difficult Things About Living with the OC: 1) Fear that when the going gets tough, you won’t be tough. 2) Knowing that your struggles cause immense pain to those who love you. 3) Living so in the moment that you haven’t done anything to plan for a future. 4) Life delayed. And delayed. And delayed. 5) Feeling your physical body fail in dozens of tiny ways. 6) Feeling that you have let yourself become “the person with cancer” instead of a person who happens to have cancer. 7) Feeling like your brain doesn’t process like a normal person and that you are just a tad “crazy”. 8) 9) 10) SEE—it happens EVERY SINGLE TIME…I ran out of “gripes” at #7. I’ve got nothing for numbers 8-10. I’m sure I could think of a few more if I really sat here and tried, but it’s SO much more fun to do the blessing list. Whew! I feel better already. But--I am reserving my right to fill in the blanks the next time it feels just a little good to let myself feel just a little bad.

There...I said it.

There… I said it. cancer sucks. Cancer Sucks. CANCER SUCKS. PINCHE CANCER!!!! It’s the strangest thing, but so many people want an expression of anger from me around this disease. I think this is because that is what people who love you feel for you when they learn you have the Big C. They are angry on your behalf and an expression of anger from me means I share their pain at watching me struggle. So, I said it. I’m saying it today in particular because I just found out that yet another friend is facing this battle. I said it even though I don’t 100% mean it. I mean, no sane person would choose it--but at this point, it would be very difficult for me to imagine my life without the blessings that have come along with it. Nothing in life is free, dear friends. This includes the opportunity to have a true appreciation for the value of every single moment of this incredible life. That is what the Big C gives you. 24 hours of every single day of gratitude. SO—Cancer does suck. But it also rocks. Really, really rocks. Like Jon Bon Jovi when he’s singing “She’s a Little Runaway”.

Here We Go Again!

Here we go again! I recently came across my cancer blog which I started writing about three years into what has become a seven year (and counting) journey toward coming to terms with living with cancer. When I first started the blog, I had been diagnosed, had one round of chemo, lost my hair, gone into remission, gotten my hair back, had a recurrence, lost my hair, gone back into remission, and started to get my hair back. Since that time, I have had a stem cell transplant, two more recurrences, two rounds of radiation, more needle sticks, biopsies, tests, and therapies than I can list on one hand—and I have THE MOST AMAZING PONYTAIL you have ever seen. Over all these years and all these treatments, one thing has remained constant: the blessing far outweighs the curse once you learn how to look. For those of you who are following along with me through Andi’s Army, you know that I learned yesterday that my cancer has returned so this seems like a good time to resume writing about my experience as I take the next steps of my journey. My previous entries all ended with something “fun” I said I wished I didn’t know about cancer. Looking back, that seems like such an awful perspective. Reading what I wrote at those early stages shows me how far I have come toward accepting this path that I am on. Moving forward, I would like to share all of the amazing things I have learned about myself through living with the OC. I’ll do my best to update semi-frequently, but those of you who know me, know that it takes a lot of time to live the rock-star fabulous life that I now allow myself to live. I’ll do my best, but there are just going to be times when I am having justice for breakfast, or riding bareback on the best horse in the world, or hanging with the three coolest kids on the Planet. Barring that, I’ll try to give you a candid perspective on what it feels like to live life fully while also realizing that there are no guarantees. And so…to kick of these new entries: Learning how to live on my terms is something FUN I am so glad I have learned through my cancer.