I’ve been called an inspiration. I’ve been told I encourage people. I’ve been told I am the strongest person people know. This includes my oncologist who sees hundreds of patients each year. Maybe he says that to every patient. This is all while I feel like the weakest person. I miss my strong body. The body that had no problem jogging 2 miles. I miss feeling light on my feet with bright pink boxing gloves on my hands. My spirit feels weak as well. I cry daily over things I know I have no control over. I also don’t feel like I’m doing anything someone else wouldn’t do. Most people diagnosed are going to try and get the best care possible. That’s all I’ve done. Most people are going to take the chemo/radiation/stem-cell transplant or whatever they are told and it’s side effects. That’s all I’ve done. Most people are going to have a new outlook. One of gratefulness for each moment because the fragility of life is remembered in every nauseous moment, in every hard earned breath, and with every hair that falls from their head. They are positive because if you’re not, you might just lose it.
On Facebook I stuck to all the positive. I posted the small triumphs, the large triumphs and asked for prayers when needed. The truth is I have a Great and Powerful Oz persona. Behind the curtain is a woman crippled from 29 days, over the last 10 months, being pumped with poisons. Poison against my cancer and my body. Behind the curtain I’m balled up most of the time with a blanket that gets thrown off like a rebuke of the devil when a hot flash hits. Then it comes time… a new visitor arrives seeking my wisdom and I post. I make sure that my post will somehow help someone. I think part of me does this because just in case I die… I will have impacted positively. I would never want to leave this place thinking I didn’t do my best.
I know you are waiting for the confession part, here it is. The person I am trying to help most, my Dorthy if you will, is also me. Posting as positive as I can allows me to focus on that. It allows me to breath through the physical and mental side effects of this disease and the mental side effects of other traumatic things occurring in my life.
So here’s to you Dorthy, from me the Great and Powerful Oz “herself”… Keep busy, stay positive, stay focused, and remember that you chose to live your life for God, so stop making plans and start letting his plans fall into place.