And a Happy World Cancer Day to you!

Happy World Cancer Day! Not to the cancer, tumors and cells - you can all go fuck yourselves. But to the patients, the friends and family and anyone who has been affected by this stupid-ass disease, let’s celebrate the good! I’ve always been a glass half full kind of gal so let’s raise our wine, champagne, beer, juice, water glasses to the positive things related to me & my cancer adventure.

The first time I remember hearing the word cancer was when my Grandma Helen passed away when I was in the 4th grade. I didn’t even know she was sick. My mom took Stef, Marc and I over to my grandparents apartment and told us to play quietly because Grandma was sick. I have two memories from that day. The first one; my mom came out of the bedroom and yelled at Marc and I for being too loud. I can still picture where I was sitting on the living room floor being told to lower our voices. We were playing some made up game with old liquor store order sheets. Totally normal for 8 and 9 year olds. The second is my mom looking so upset as we were leaving. My little brain just didn’t have a clue what was going on. The next week she passed away. That’s when I was told she had cancer but I didn’t fully get it.

Over the years, more family members were diagnosed with different types of cancer. Friends of mine lost parents to cancer. Countless others I knew had it’s fair share of cancer stories. I always felt bad or sympathetic, but I just couldn’t understand or fathom what it was like to really live through it. I mean - it’s not something anyone wants to go through. And then, on a beautiful Thursday evening in June, I officially joined the colon cancer club. I celebrated with a chocolate milkshake from Mark & Julie’s.

Since June 13, 2019, I have said at least once a day, “what in the actual fuck!?!?” It used to be to a friend at the end of the day. Now, it’s to Perdita the house plant. (COVID makes us do weird things) But seriously, what in the actual fuck is going on? How is this disease a thing!?!? And why!?!?! I just don’t understand!! I’m not trying to be stupid or question life it’sself but if someone could just clue me in that would be great. I do, however, get the good things that have come out of my time with and without Carl. These are some of the things I get.

There are always good people out there. I know that. You know that. But it’s easy to forget. One day when I was at Sloan, before I had my surgery, I remember being in pain and feeling tired and upset. I had just gotten my blood work and when they finish, they wrap your hand in different color bandages to make things fun. Another patient who was sitting next to me saw I was about to just lose my shit and he asked how I got to have my pink bandage be color coordinated with my outfit and his orange one didn’t.  At that moment, it was just what I needed to stop feeling so angry. I took a deep breath and looked at him with a big smile and said “it’s all about who you know”. He told me it was all going to be ok and wished me luck. I am so grateful for all genuinely nice people out there who just want to spread kindness and happiness.

My sweet tooth will always beat cancer. I’m not even embarrassed about it. Not one bit. I don’t know how many pints of ice cream I went through between June and November. I really have no shame in that. So many well wishers brought me bags of sour watermelons and peanut m&ms. It may have taken me longer than usual to go through them but in my limited chemo appetite, I would savor the couple pieces I could get down. Whenever my parents would go to CVS to pick up one of my prescriptions, they would always bring me some sort of candy surprise to help the medicine go down. Carl may have taken away part of my colon, my ovaries, and my short term memory (chemo-brain IS real), but it could never take away my love for all things junk food. I’m so glad that even though I've changed and grown from my experience, my fundamental core of sunshine, laughter and chocolate remains intact.

We all learn things about ourselves when going through a challenging time. I’m stronger than I thought, I have a high tolerance for pain, blah blah blah. Who cares?! That is not what I’m talking about today. I learned I have cancer preferences and that is something I never expected but I got ‘em! There are words I cringe when I hear and hate using. Also they’re probably a hot take so sorry not sorry. Inspiration, survivor and journey are like nails on a chalkboard to me. I can’t express how much I dislike them. I do not feel like an inspiration and I do not think my experience warrants the use of that word. There are so many other people who can rightfully be called that. The word survivor never sat right with me and now I know I really don’t like it. It’s not the same as surviving a car crash or some other harrowing ordeal. I didn’t make it by the skin of my teeth. It was never touch and go. I haven’t figured out the word I want to use in its place, but when I do, you will be the first to know. The word journey can just turn right back around and go home. I am not an influencer talking about my journey to finding happiness or clear skin or whatever they talk about. I am also not on some weird quest to find some magical ring. If you have said those words to me, please do not be offended, I just want you to know, I will never use them. If I do, something is wrong and you should alert the authorities. I also REALLY do not care for cancer paraphernalia. The bedazzled apparel is 100% not my jam. I am proud of who I am and what I went through. I am clearly very open about my experience (see what I did there) but I do not need to wear a shirt saying “I beat colon cancer and all I got was this t-shirt”. I’m not embarrassed about having cancer, I just don’t need to make it my identity or fashion style. If you want to rock them, then more power to you! 

I always respected and appreciated doctors and nurses but HOLY COW, now I can’t even express how much I admire them and anyone who works in a patient-facing job. It’s a really sobering thought thinking how so much of their day is spent giving someone the worst news of their life. I had 3 surgeons, 1 oncologist, and 1 gyno all give me news I did not want to hear. They sat there calmly as the tears streamed down my face. Each of them as well as their nurses held my hands or rubbed my back while I learned what my surgery and treatment would entail. Not one of them made me feel like I was just another number or dollar sign. Seriously, what doctors are capable of is mind blowing to me! And nurses! I can’t even. To work with people at their lowest point and have a smile on their face is beyond me. Every single nurse that I had was amazing. Except one. It involves two enemas. But that’s a story for another day. Two days after my surgery someone had given the order to have my catheter taken out. Not sure who it was but it should not have happened. My bladder had not fully woken up and it was not a good situation. No matter how many glasses of water or iced tea I drank, I could not pee. It was not comfortable my friends. Everytime I had to get out of bed without success my body would hate me a little more. So finally, at 11pm my night nurse told me they had to put the catheter back in. She grabbed one of her friends also working on the floor to assist. So now these two amazing women have to be all up in my hoo-ha while I’m high as a kite. They were telling me stories and jokes to help me relax. And honestly, I remember laughing more that night than I had in days. These men and women deserve only the good things in life for all that they do.

So let’s all celebrate the good things we’ve taken from our own cancer stories. This is a day about how far we’ve come, not about how much we still have left to go. I know I have a lot of really great memories from June 2019 until now. Why would I waste my time only thinking about only the bad ones? And if you really want to get all Jen Lava about it then let’s do it. Charcuterie can replace any meal! Squirting whipped cream directly into your mouth always tastes better. Crying from laughing is the best feeling. Making fun of your parents with your siblings are the best inside jokes. And always #fucarl!