Tuesday, May 27, 2008

I purposely watched the last several episodes of Sex and the City before I left Miami, because Samantha was diagnosed with and treated for breast cancer during that season. She shaved her head, had the side-effects, boasted a kick-ass attitude and always looked fabulous from diagnosis through treatment.

In one episode where the uber-annoying Sarah Jessica Parker aka Carrie Bradshaw is talking to her beau about Samantha's Cancer, the issue of denial arises. Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte utter the phrase "She's going to be fine," about 100 times. In one scene Carrie's beau, Mikhail Baryshnikov, basically shakes her out of denial and says, you must face the fact that she could die. Ah, but how the girls protest with the "She's going to be fine" mantra.

Well, naturally, the first thing you associate or think of when you here Cancer is death, no? So that got me to wondering : Were my friends, the ones in seeming denial, who wouldn't dream of coming to chemo or visiting me in the hospital, expecting me to die? Were they, are they afraid I'll die? And if so, how very silly.

Look people, we're all going to die. That's the only sure thing in life. And yeah, maybe this will ultimately be how I die. If so, what of it? But I wonder if my friends are bracing themselves for the worst and hoping for the best. I wonder who would come to my funeral; I always have.

Cancer, it changes you in so many ways. I've become more fearless. More bold. A little less vain. Appreciative of all I have. Appreciative of days where I feel good and am able to be a normal person. Of course I've also become a little more self-pitying, dependent and unmotivated to do much but wake up every day. I've changed in too many ways to name, good and bad. I'm uglier--bad. I'm more compassionate--good. You get the point.

But anyway, I'm kind of down this week because even though chemo is done in June and surgery will be done by July, I have nothing to look forward to after that. Nothing. No vacation, no life-changing experience, no financial windfall or career gratification. I have nothing to use at the light at the end of the tunnel except for the end itself. But July is just the end, when really, what I need is a beginning. And I need to figure out how to begin again.

No biggie.

I am in Jacksonville for a week of family, friends and hopefully, relaxation. Missed my flight Sunday morning, which caused a little tension, but managed to get home by Sunday night. Spent the last two days at our picturesque beaches sipping mojitos and having slumber parties just like the good old days, minus mojitos.

My back is KILLING and I don't know why I can't fuckin' remember to bring my Tempurpedic pillow with me everywhere.

I need something to look forward to in September. I must find a way to get a vacation togther, stat.
For all those fashionistas and seekers of page-turning beach books, go out and get Bringing Home the Birkin. Fabulous, true story. And I think I may have just found my next career. I've read it in 24 hours.