This evening, it hit me like
stage-fright. Yes...that's exactly what it feels like at times,
stage-fright. As of today, I am still waiting for a full prognosis.
All I've received so far is the knowledge that it's stage 2 breast
cancer on the left, and they want to take my breast...nipple and all.
It's a different kind of fear, that
rarely makes its presence known. After all, I've had cancer before. I
have an idea of what to expect. The weeks that have passed since the
initial diagnosis have gone by almost like normal, except I've been
beading more necklaces, and taking longer play and snuggle sessions
with my daughter, all while bracing myself for the major life-event
that will inevitably change me again...but for the better.
It was as I was putting dishes away
this evening, when I felt that odd sort of heavy dread hit my
stomach, and it felt JUST like it does before I have to do something
in front of a crowd. I pictured myself barely able to stand, sort of
wanting to cry or throw up, as I often do before I have to recite
basic information at a business meeting, tell a story in a classroom,
act on a stage, or sing “Blaze of Glory” in a dimly-lit bar with
a bunch of drunk people staring at me (the latter was an attempt to
cure this dreaded condition). This stage is different. I've been on
it before. The view is not of strange faces or judging classmates.
It's more like being able to see the whole scope of my life and
mortality. It's an incredible thing to look at, really, but it leaves
me feeling so exposed. It's like the universe is watching me, and
it's my job to pass with flying colors, but only after a lot of pain
and humiliation.
So here I stand, much like I did on the
auditorium stage in seventh grade, nervously reciting a poem as the
popular girls made fun of my shiny forehead (the event that lead to
makeup), only I've brought with me something I didn't have before.
Hunger. Hunger is stronger than fear. I may be shaking, but instead
of wanting to hide, I want to get through it. I want to look this
beast in the eye, know exactly what its plans are, and I want to cut
off its head. I'm almost bloodthirsty with this desire to do battle
and there's even a little thrill in the fear. I have my moments of
terror, but terror doesn't own me and neither does cancer. I have a
baby and husband who need me. I have an education to complete and a
future to start. There was nothing I could do to avoid this down-time
to come, but there is nothing it can do to keep me from planning,
from striving, from continuing.
I'm scared, I'm shaking, I'm
determined...I'm hungry.
Bring it.
This song has been playing a lot in my head, lately. Chuck's words have always spoken to me, but it is especially so, now.
"Same place, different time, same chase
A different line
A chance to heal, to allow what's real
To take its course
Like a brush in hand, to paint a picture
Of what we would like to see
And love to be
The vision is clear, taking charge of fear
For granted I do not take the future
To be changed by triumph
Tears and pain of the past
I gain wisdom
The fragile art of existence
Is kept alive by sheer persistence
The fragile art of existence
No time for self-pity
No time for dwelling on what should have been
But is yet to be
Take the plunge, take the chance
Safe in the heart and soul from elements
Spawned by those void of no self-worth
And no sense of dreams"
~C. Schuldiner
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