Sharing another page from my journal. For those who cannot sleep. You are not alone... February 15, 2014 I must confess, it has been a sad day. I have packed away my hot curlers, my expensive hair products, my specialty brushes and curling irons. I am not sure how long they will sit collecting dust among my other feminine products like brassieres, lingerie, depilatory creams/waxes and of course, my used to be, monthly necessities. Funny how each burial of sorts, causes the same aching loss as a loved one. These items were used for my womanly ritualistic behavior. I fumble with a nameless feeling. The insecurity of gender neutral. The woman I used to be, has completely disappeared. In its wake lies a person who no longer feels the need to apply makeup or spray perfume. How heartless and degrading can a disease be that it will even strip you from the very essence you felt as a woman? The chemo has dried my ovaries and taken my once fertile body I was so proud of, to a menopausal shell. Yes, I knew it would happen one day, but never this early. And no I was not planning on having any more children, but I cherished the choice, the option given. One regret I have is not having more children. Age then cancer caught up to me, making the choice automatically for me. I am so very blessed by my beautiful children and so very thankful. There is not one day that goes by, that I do not get down on my knees in thankful prayer for these miracles that God chose for me. I believe a child is the closest one will ever get on earth to the presence of God. This past week I have also lost some wonderful women I knew to breast cancer. When a person deals with the many challenges inflicted by cancer, it calls upon their true character, all weaknesses exposed first. The initial price is harmonic disturbance and complete chaos to the life you once knew. Then you are catapulted into a medical world you never knew existed. It is in this new medical world you meet your new heros. The chosen people and the true celebrities of this world. The stricken, heavy laden, lay down their amour and rest beside you for awhile. Sitting next to one another in the hospital, doctors office, or chemo chair, there is an instant sisterhood/brotherhood formed. The origin cast from the now melded character instigated from the words you have cancer. You will hear mentioned from cancer patients of a very dark place that follows chemo treatments. I find it difficult to write about this, my fingers frozen by tears. Those with cancer intuitively know. It is a very dark place where all of your unspoken fears, the fears to frightening to speak aloud, echo loudly against the walls of your head. I become sentimental and see us, the patients, very similar to a branch of the armed forces. We are comrades, together fighting a most gruesome battle. Viewing with our very own eyes the blood spilling from our dear sisters and brothers while we watch unable to help. All we can do is summon and direct through mental telepathy the intensity of our strength The enemy so strong it practically immobilizes all in its range. We will always stand unified, holding hands, showing any and all support possible, but this war has sacrificed and taken the most beautiful of creatures made. The resulting torment eventually happens, survivors guilt. Why are these precious lives taken? Why are others allowed survival? This life can be so unfair. These questions, along with cancer itself, will go unanswered. So one may see, this dark place I regard as sacred ground. Spoken only in the most reverent tone. The pain endured is a private hell shared by few, but sadly growing. I Can tell you the hours I have spent rolled into a ball in my bed, holding the legs tightly with ache against me. But I cannot tell you the number of souls, clinging to life, that did the same thing only to lose their fight in the morning. I can tell you the prayers I have pleaded to The Lord in the dead of night, begging to keep safe and alive the friends who have touched me deeply, only to hear of their passing. I as I am sure there are others cry an endless stream of tears while looking out a window dreaming with hope of a happier place untouched by decaying disease in all its forms. I was talking with a friend who has been cancer free for years. She is a tireless crusader in finding a cure. She directed all the pain she received in that dark place into a passionate calling for a cure. Our youthful days are gone in a flash and besides our wonderful children what will we leave as a legacy behind? What hand imprint will we weave into this earth and how can we improve what was given to us? I know everyone can influence in some way, big or small. The reason for this post and my reverent mourning for the lives lost is partially due to the loss of a special spirit I knew. now passed. I am making a promise today, to make an imprint, whether big or small and leave this world a little better than I found it. I have had time to reflect on matters of substance. I think of these thoughts as the bits and pieces of moments, when added together hold the vital recording of my life. These are the memories I reflected on before surgery, while recuperating after surgery, on the car ride home after I was told I had cancer, after the death of my grandmother, and at the birth of my children. It is the period of time when your brain is finally quiet, not distracted, and can retrieve and also reveal (as I like to call them) the sparkles of life. The sparkles are made up of the moments when we chose to truly live in that minute. I am talking, out loud and in spectra color! This is when we truly soaked in every drop of this amazing life, our life, possibly gone all to soon, but will still remain in the form of a bright tiny sparkle. Shouldnt our goal in life be one big dynamite of a sparkle? Love and thanks, Janelle
Posted on: Mon, 07 Jul 2014 03:02:03 +0000
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