Food for thought

Some people go to retreats or some exotic beach on Bali for self-discovery and appreciation. I took an easier and faster discovery route -- cancer. 

You discover that your body is an amazing marvel with superhuman abilities to withstand a blood-curling and frightening list of poisonous treatments that in trying to kill cancer are also predictably killing you in the process. You also learn to look differently at limitations, accepting them as part of life and adjusting accordingly. When the steroids kick in, most of Friday, I am like an energizer bunny running around doing everything at once, before deflating in the evening. While on some weekends, Netflix or some foreign movies are my only friends when I can barely get out of bed. And in between these ups and downs -- I continue to enjoy life.

Another discovery are people. I feel incredibly blessed, surrounded by people who check in with me daily or weekly from all corners of the world -- sending me funny audio books to shorten my time while I am in chemo, or a flood of messages on the day before chemo to check-in, or my friends just casually dropping food every Friday, or my neighbor bringing brisket to my door. And if I don't post updates here within a day or two of the treatment, my phone is burning up: "Are you ok?" "How is everything?" Some of my friends flew across the country or even half-the way around the globe not only to come and celebrate my birthday, but to cook, cook and clean and organize and prepare just to make it so special for me - and it was wonderful! Due to all of this I can appreciate today, and not worry about tomorrow, and gently drown in all this love and care.

People I enjoyed playing volleyball with, or reading books with in a book club, or who are just too far away to meet, are reaching out and sending me unexpected food delivery gift cards or fresh flowers to my doorstep. It is incredibly touching, very real, that in their day-to-day busy lives they not only can spare a thought about how sick I might be feeling, but also find the precious time to reach out in so many different ways. To say that it makes a HUGE difference, is to say nothing. There are no words to describe how it is -- it gives me the strength to deal with this cancer beast.

I also discovered that some people that I spent half my life celebrating holidays and kids' milestones with, that were the first few to know about my cancer when we didn't even know how to deal with the diagnosis or how to tell people, just disappeared from my life completely with a dismissive "in this day and age they know how to treat cancer well; if you need something, call." And that is it, only one or two text exchanges in the several months since the diagnosis with lengthy explanations how busy they are with their lives to even text. And it leaves a hole within me, not because I expected them to bring food, or constant visits or driving with me to pick up a wig.... it just that I expected to matter to them, the same way they mattered to me all these years sitting at my kitchen table when life was easy. I expected that knowing me all these years, they would reach out without asking, and support without scheduling conflicts as I often don't have the energy to think, let alone to ask and schedule. Cancer makes relationships so much more raw and real, like a litmus test.

And then I wake up in the morning, look at my handmade dolls (the protector) that were such a precious gift, get a morning "how are you" call from a friend, or a "I know you couldn't eat much beyond honeydew melon yesterday, so I will swing by and bring you light soup to make it easy for you..." and again, I feel enveloped in those guardian angel hugs and think that I only have another two chemos and that with this support it will be a breeze.

I discovered how eternally grateful I am for all these unsolicited thoughts, texts, calls, food, gifts, care, encouragement and how incredibly lucky (if often undeserving) I am.