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Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Your Deepest Wish Will Come True

This was my fortune from a fortune cookie I ate last night. Although I'm usually not one to get excited about a small piece of paper in a hard, crunchy cookie, I admit my heart soared with did the person who placed the fortune in the cookie know I had a deep wish that desperately needed to come true? Lol. Because I just know it was meant for me! Granted, I don't think anyone actually gets a bad fortune cookie, my last one read: determination is the wake up call to the human will. Not exactly a fortune, but inspiring so I put it in my wallet as a keepsake...I'll take what I can get!

I think I'm at the point (as I'm sure many other people dealing with health issues reach) where I look for signs, words, images--anything that means I'm going to be ok. I've even thought about going to a psychic that my coworkers swear by just to see what he or she would say...although I'm frightened they would say something bad. I actually went to a psychic when I was about 21 with a friend of mine just for fun and I remember the psychic told me I would live to age 76 and have 3 kids. I remember walking away pissed that she said 76 because that didn't seem old enough! Ironically now if someone told me I'd live to 76, half of me would be overjoyed while the other half would still think it wasn't long enough! Lol. My grandmother is 98 years old and my grandfather lived to 97, so I'd say I have some good genes on my side. But that psychic apparently wasn't that great at her job because she failed to mention that I would be diagnosed with cancer at 26, so I'll have take what she said with a grain of salt. And what if she did tell me? Would I have believed her? A part of me probably would. The hypochondriac in me would have freaked out and tried to figure out how to prevent it. But I'm sure my friends and family would have told me I was crazy. That reminds me of a time when I was in Miami for spring break, having dinner with a group of friends on south beach at a table outside. A woman walks up to us and points at me and says, "I need to tell you something important that you should know." I said ok, and she held out her hand and said "five dollars." So I laughed and said "uh, that's ok" and shooed her away. I always wondered what made her pick me out of our group of friends, was it because I looked the most gullible? Or was she simply crazy? That's what I thought at the time but of course now I wonder if she really did know something important that I should know.

Who knows. It doesn't really matter anymore since the hand has been dealt and I just need to figure out how to win. Ross and I are in Chicago now, we celebrated Christmas with his parents for our first married Christmas. It was sad not to be with my parents and my brother for Christmas but it's nice to be a wife and start new traditions with Ross and his family--because now we're all family! Christmas is always my favorite time of the year and although it doesn't completely take my mind off of my issues--because really what will--it does help. And you just can't help feeling hopeful and positive during this time of the matter what your fortune cookie says :)

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Omg, I Die.

Continuing my rant on all things that make you think about cancer when all you want to think about is sunshine and butterflies (lol) are the phrases that all of us say without even thinking about it...namely, "I was "dying" laughing over that story", "I'm gonna kill you", "Omg, I thought I was gonna die listening to him", or my favorite expression by Bravo star/stylist Rachel Zoe, simply "I Die" or even "Die" which she says every time she sees an outfit she loves or "dies" for.

It seems silly, but I was struck by this the other day after dinner with a group of girls. One girl was telling a story and another girl was laughing so hard she said "stop it, you're killing me, I'm dying!". Why do we use that phrase so much when something is so hilarious or amazing or annoying that we're like, totally dying over it? It's so crazy, yet I'm guilty as charged. Yeah I've "died" over something someone has said or said I was gonna "kill" a friend (or Ross) for pissing me off and never thought twice about it. Yet, after my blood clot experience where I really did almost "die", it doesn't seem so funny anymore. Yes, I'm uber aware of everything I see/hear/think that's related to death, so it makes me sensitive to almost anything that a so-called normal person wouldn't even think about. And yeah that sucks. I hate being like that, I feel like I'm one big ball of emotions and should wear a sign on my head that says, "please tread lightly, may start crying uncontrollably". I miss the days when watching Wendy Williams play with her wig on TV didn't make me think of cancer or someone planning a trip to South Africa didn't make me think of the long flight and possible blood clot...what was life like before I had a health crisis on my hands?? It's getting harder and harder to remember. And yet, every day I'm also reminded how lucky I am to be here. How lucky I am to still have all 4 limbs, eyes, hands, nose, etc. To not be brain damaged after being unconscious from a cardiac arrest. To bitch and moan about the crowds in Times Square when I'm just trying to get to the subway. To get excited to watch "Keeping up with the Kardashians" every Sunday night. To dance on tables and get a little tipsy (just a little Mom and Dad!) at a club. I have my moments where I'm ok, where I cry not because I'm scared about my future, but because my new suede booties got wet in the rain. It's a strange life, but I'm living it.

So I try not to get offended when people use the "I die" phrase around me. Because as a doctor reminded me last week, we're all technically "dying" from the moment we're born and no one's future is promised. It's a bit morbid for my taste because my plan was always to live it's true. So how am I doing? I'm ok, I just completed round 7 of the wonder chemo and I have round 8 right before Christmas. So in January 2012, I will know if I am in complete remission and we'll go from there. It's a strange thing, but it's almost more comforting to be in the middle of chem then it is to be finished and have to go through a scan. Because when you're in the middle of it, you can go about your day, knowing the drugs are killing cancer while you're sleeping, eating, talking, etc. The drugs are doing all the hard work, you're just chillin--kind of! But when you're done and it's time for a scan, then it's time to freak out. I hate it!! But I want it at the same time, I want to know that the cancer is gone. I want to live.