That’s us, to the right. Two years ago today.
Moments after sharing the bad news with Luba.
So early in a surreal journey.
Behind that smile, a big part of me thought life was over. All of me hoped it was just beginning.
We headed to Quebec City that week. As planned. I tossed and turned in the hotel bed, hoping I’d somehow fall asleep before Lucy, Bayla and Mark finished watching “The Corpse Bride”, “Beetlejuice”, “Edward Scissorhands” and “The Nightmare Before Christmas”.
I was awoken, one of those nights, by a ringing thought: This was the beginning of “The Spicy Me”.
Before this ordeal, my aim was to get through life. To make it to some far off end without losing any of the fabulousness I’d stumbled into. New territories and aspirations were reserved for Luba. As a matter of course.
Two years ago today, I opened my eyes.
I became alert. Aware. Present.
Grateful plus.
I started examining. And choosing. And imagining more.
The two years since then have brought trauma and mourning, recovery and joy. I’ve made friends. I’ve taken chances. I’ve explored new territories. I’ve become the Spicy Me.
I’d never choose cancer. I never want it again. For any one.
And I’m supremely grateful for the efflorescing goodness I’ve been treated to since that mind-boggling beginning. Two years ago today.
I’m aspiring to many, many more good years.
By the way.
As our enjoyable BOLO evening ended, last week, my friend Laurie and I sprang to our feet, hoping to dash to the exit before throngs of bloggers clogged our path.
But the packed room was gridlocked.
I shrugged. This would to take a while.
But Laurie was dauntless. She raised her eyebrows, smirked and assured me that her “pointy elbows” would whisk us across that floor.
And they did. In a flash we were strolling down Preston — me admiring her finesse. “You’re amazing,” I said, “I stand invisible for ages trying to squeeze through crowds.”
“Oh, me too,” Laurie chirped, “I can only do that for someone else.”
Far. Too. Familiar.
In the wise words of my friend Janice, “Good God woman … Be even kinder to yourself, as you have to live with you.”
Two tier service just disgusts me yet I foist it daily on myself.
So, I’m trying to stop.
Thanks to both women for the reminders.
I must be worth first class self-service — judging by the company I keep.
Andrea Ross was diagnosed with breast cancer October 6, 2009 and intends to survive and thrive. You can read more from Andrea here.
But having publicly announced and collected input for a 5 minute spiel about standing up to fear, it seemed the embarrassment of backing out might actually dwarf the embarrassment of flopping.
Thank you, John, for inviting me into your beautiful Women and Classic Cameras series, for your kind words, and for the opportunity to step up to big fears.
Andrea Ross was diagnosed with breast cancer October 6, 2009 and intends to survive and thrive. You can read more from Andrea here.
Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever but the cautious do not live at all.
Our insurer refuses to honour my critical life and disability insurance claim.
This was a cruel and devastating blow. Not only because they robbed us but after stringing us along for 4 months but because I’d been over-insured for the twenty some years leading up to my leap from Nortel six months before my diagnosis.
We are spared the pain of the long-awaited trial and Keith Ross accepts a Section 810 Peace Bond which prohibits him from having any contact with us for a period of 12 months..
I want more. I want to crash out of this invisible armor I’m trapped in – to tear away the shackles and freefall, delirious and wild. I want to plummet naked into a velvet ocean at midnight and roll in the ecstasy of the waves. I want to peel back my layers and hold my raw wounds up to the sun for healing.
I want to slice through these suffocating wrappings and grab onto CORE ME – whoever that is – and never let her go; make her into the real me, the only me, for some to love and some not to love .. . and I want to not so painfully care who does and who doesn’t.
I want to feel, taste, devour it all – no filters, no censors, no gatekeeper telling me what is rightfully mine to take and what isn’t. I want rapture at the top of a mountain under a full moon. I want to absorb me, embrace me, the light and the dark, the glorious and the hideous, and cherish it all and laugh at it all forever.
Sarah’s back. “So what do you want?” she asks.
What do I want? “Caprese salad and a cup of pasta fagioul.”
Twin digit years being lucky, I slipped into this one with humble hopes for undefined improvements.
Within a week, I’d found that lump.
It’s tough to fathom the changes that followed.
And the improvements.
I could have done without the terror, the discomfort and the physical and financial diminishments. But the net gain this year has truly been incredible.
This year I learned that life is short. That I am strong. That people are good. That my supporters are many.
And the importance of practicing joy.
This twin digit year leaves me a better, stronger, happier me.
I am immensely grateful to Mark, to Lucy, to Bayla and to everyone whose words, smiles, meals, notes, playdates, care and thoughtful actions helped create this incredible year.
And I am thrilled that I will have a chance to say some thank yous in person this Saturday as we celebrate life, good health and good, good friends. I can’t wait.
p.s. Does anyone other than Mark, Mary, Jay, Caroline and myself laugh out loud at these Arrested Development titles, I wonder?
Andrea Ross was diagnosed with breast cancer October 6, 2009 and intends to survive and thrive. You can read more from Andrea here.
The spring/summer edition of the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation‘s magazine, Courage, is now available. It features an article Andrea was invited to contribute about the head shaving party we had for her in December (page 24).
If you’re new to this site, having discovered it in Courage, welcome! We hope you make your voice heard by sharing your thoughts and experiences as comments on our blog.
By the way… this isn’t the first time Andrea and our WeCanRebuildHer.com website have been in the news. Andrea contributed to the Ottawa Citizen‘s Miracles on Ice edition of the Saturday Observer (Feb. 6, 2010, section B) with a piece about skating on the Rideau Canal during chemo (page B3).
Mark is primary support, cheerleader and project manager of Andrea's recovery. You can read more from Mark here and on Mark's real blog, MarkBlevis.com.
If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient?
If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous?
If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?
Andrea
Lucy* (
Bayla* (