I've been thinking a lot about luck. My thinking was triggered by one of the woman I've meet on a cancer website. These boards are where we go to get help, advice, support and friendship based on the common denominator that we're all down on our luck. Which is pretty much the understatement of the year. We're black cat crosses as you walk under a ladder onto a crack breaking a mirror in the process bad luck. My comrade in breast cancer commented that, after all she has gone through, luck has to start going her way. I couldn't agree more. We're overdue some pot-o-gold, marshmallow-charms-in-a-cereal-box, 4-leaf-clover luck.
When I first got diagnosed every one of my doctors, family and friends told me how lucky I am that they found it early. They failed to understand how unlucky I was to get it in the first place. There you are, happily going about your life, when THUMP a piano falls on your head in the shape of a 2.2cm, stage 2, grade 3, invasive tumor. And I'm lucky?? Fuck you all. And I say that in the sweetest possible way.
I think that people try to see the positive in your situation. Yes you got cancer but it could be worse. You're lucky it wasn't bigger, badder, in the lymphs, in the margins. You Chemobiyach (Not my real name) are the luckiest person alive. But, after pondering this wisely with hand rubbing chin, I've come to the conclusion that it's a backwards way to think. Something crappy still smells like crap no matter how much Febreze you spray around. For me it's obviously the cancer, but this goes for every really horrible situation out there. It is what it is. Bad life luck. Don't let anyone tell you any different.
And, once you accept that, it's easier to feel that you are indeed due some of the good stuff. Not just due, owed. The universe owes you, and me, a small, green Leprechaun hand-delivered by Fedex. It doesn't have anything monumental, although winning the lotto would make up for the high Oncoytpye score if you're reading this Lady Luck, I'd settle for a day where my toast doesn't burn, the sun shines and my cancer is a distant memory.
PS Happy St. Patrick's Day for the 17th. This blog has nothing to do with the fact that it's around the corner. Lucky coincidence.
ROBS YOUR WRITING IS BRILLIANT.I KNOW I AM BIASED BUT REALLY THIS IS SO WITTY AND CLEVER.YOU NEED TO WRITE MORE...YOU HAVE A GREAT STYLE!
ReplyDeleteThanks mum!!
DeleteHi, Robyn,
ReplyDeleteNot sure if you remember me but I was at Herzlia with you a million years ago. I dont have cancer but I was diagnosed with a heart condition so I know what its like to be dealt by Gds bad hand of luck. But thats beside the point there are a few people lately that I know who have gone through what you are going through at the moment and one person in particular found out she was pregnant after many years of trying for a baby, at 45 I think it was yay finally pregnant but pretty much same day breast cancer diagnosed too brought on by those hideous hormones. Any way the point of this loong drawn out story she has recently come out the other side after mastectomy, radiation, chemo etc but whenever she went for these treatments she preferred to call them a "day at the spa" mostly a girlfriend would go with her (hubbys are not always the preferred choice) and she would try and turn it around in her head so she could deal with it day to day. She was very strong through it all, which sounds like you are too. It helps to be as strong as you can, I guess thats half the battle.
Good Luck - may the force (Hashem) be with you. And yes one day you will look back daydreaming on this time in your life then realise that you have burnt that darn peace of toast!!!! xxx
Thanks for the support. :)
DeleteHAHAHAHA!!! Not really funny, but I laughed out loud when I started reading your post. It startled me when people used to tell me how lucky I was that my breast cancer was caught early. After surgery, we discovered that it had spread to my lymph nodes. Then I was lucky because it could have been more aggressive and wasn't:-) LOL. But the worst has to be when people find out about the diagnosis and then immediately launch into a tale of somebody they knew who had cancer and has since died! I've found that 'supporters' tend to swing to the ends of the pendulum...either over optimistic and filled with LUCKY comments and stories of people who have had chemo and immediately left to work the night shift (how's that possible? - I needed days to recover from each session - or was I just a woos?) or "Oh my goodness, I know somebody who has died." Ai tog! There were days where I felt super strong and there were days when I felt like I was dying, but I didn't give in to those days :-) You mentioned one of my favourite phrases, in your post...it is what it is. And then we are left with a couple of choices... do we fight or do we give up? They found a lump in my other breast last Thursday... I'm scared. I choose to fight!
ReplyDeleteExactly!! I really hope the lump is nothing. Sending strength your way.
DeleteRobyn..You are an inspitation to everyone. I read your blog as always and it it is brilliant. You are a fighting chemobiyatch. You are beating this terrible thing and putting a spin in it...sometimes we laugh and sometimes cry.You should seriously think about a book. I am sending lots of love your way. Gail (Jamie's mom)
ReplyDeleteCrappy still smells like crap. :) I don't think it can be captured any better than that! ~Catherine
ReplyDelete"And I mean that in the sweetest possible way"....I love this, my favorite part. It's all spot on. Seems we feel the same way about our diagnosis. I followed you over from the bco.org community. Love these, keep them coming. That is when you have the energy or can remember you even started a blog in the first place. My short term memory is crap now.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading! My memory is also shot. But sometimes that helps!
DeleteThis blog was... how do I say it? Relevant!! Finally I've found something that helped me. Thank you!
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