The Girl on the In-Between: Feel the Burn

Parking in front of these signs makes me feel like I'm part of some sort of elite club. I've always gotten an odd sense of privilege from it, like I'm special, or something. Weird, I know.

Tomorrow, will be my last radiation, treatment. I'm really not sure how to process it yet, as so much is coming to the forefront. Today, as I pulled into the Cancer Center parking lot, I stared at the patient parking sign, and was surprised to find that I was almost ready to cry. Was it relief, sadness, joy, fear? I'm not entirely certain, as I've been feeling a mixture of all these things. The morning was bright and sunny, and while cold, it did not hold the bitter chill I had been expecting. As I traveled in my car, to and from, the whole sky seemed to open up. Something big is happening, something I cannot yet name.

It's difficult to remember life before cancer. It's hard to imagine what it will be afterward. I was already in the throws of massive change, being a new mother, when my diagnosis came. My world was already forever transformed, as well as my body and spirit. While I met the diagnosis with surprising calm, I knew the heaviness of it. People have asked me how I can handle it the way I do. Honestly, how else could I handle it? Perhaps it's because I've had cancer before. Perhaps it's my stubborn determination to fully experience things. I did it with my brother's death, and I've done it with this.

Maybe, once it all reaches hindsight, the meaning will change. Maybe it will look different from the other side. I've been poisoned, had my breasts carved off, I've been burned...the burning was awful. Chemo was a cake-walk, compared to fifteen years ago, but radiation was something entirely new. I have joked about my life as a microwaved burrito, but really...it was very painful for at least a couple of weeks. And of course, having my breasts removed was difficult, but I've gotten used to that. Besides, I'm getting new breasts, later. They will have scars stretching across them. Nothing can be done about that, but I've never minded scars. They tell a story...they are the stitch-work, sewing who we become together.

My mermaid, didn't surface, today. Today, I felt more like the phoenix, preparing to rise from the ashes of my former self. For the first time since this started, I felt a fire within. I felt life, I felt breath. Perhaps that's what prompted the lump in my throat. Tomorrow, I might actually cry, and maybe I'll cry again after that. When this is all done, and I'm threading my new existence, perhaps only then, will I be able to see it in its entirety. In the morning, comes the final burn. There will be a lot to do in my recovery from treatment, but there is still something final about it. It's over. It's really over.