Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Sometimes, there's just no way to hold back the river

A somewhat bedraggled, possibly intoxicated woman sat across from me on the bus the other day. She asked me why I was bald. I replied, "I have breast cancer." And she said, "Oh, I'm sorry."

I wanted to say, "Why? It has nothing to do with you," or "Thanks," or "What a strange thing to say." I wanted to say that I see hundreds of people everyday seemingly living their lives numb, rarely seeing each day as the remarkable opportunity it is-- an opportunity to experience life with richness and passion. I wanted to say that since diagnosis, every symptom-free moment I experience is a delight, every day that I can walk or run or laugh or sing is a truly amazing gift that brings light to my eyes. I wanted to tell her how when I go into the mountains now, I see beauty, feel ambition and smell freedom-- I'm overwhelmed by my own fortune. I wanted to say that because of cancer I am happier, fuller, more aware and more alive than I have ever been, and that she can save her sorry for someone who needs it.

Instead, I said, "Don't worry about it," smiled and looked out the window.



My last treatment was as close to fun as chemo can be. Sean had to work so I went in all on my lonesome. I wore a long hot pink wig, a sassy short skirt and 5-inch black heels that resounded confidence from the cold, clean linoleum to the sterile, beige walls. I smiled big and bright to everyone I saw, although that was nothing out of the usual. Even though I was being pumped full of room temperature liquid, I felt warm and happy. When I was done, I sashayed to the end of the rows of chairs, up to the bell and rang it long and triumphant, signaling that this was, in fact, my last treatment. Nurses and patients alike cheered and applauded, waving in my direction as I walked out happy as could be.

Life since has been just as satisfying. I went out that evening to Poplar and Oh Shucks to enjoy a 36 oz schooner or two. Nothing big, just a nice hurrah! with close friends; the pink wig came along for the ride. It's quite enjoyable to watch how people look at you when you wear such an audacious wig: expressions ranged from admiring to annoyed, curious to contemptuous, attracted to apathetic. Funny how such a simple thing can provoke so much judgment.
No other folderol has occurred on by behalf, although that's not to say none will. I would still like to hold a fundraiser at some point, but who really knows? I'm awful at putting such things together for myself, it just seems bizarrely self-promoting and desperate.

I have, however, been getting out and about as much as possible in celebration of my burgeoning health. I attended a wonderful No Pants Party held by my friend Katie to celebrate her moving into her new home. I saw just about every friend from my college days who still lives in SLC and received congratulations from all. It had been a while since I'd been Designated Driver and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I laughed my ass off at Sean's roommate playing Wii Boxing dressed as a Chippendale in naught but boxer briefs and a bowtie, and the numerous keg stands in knickers. It was so good to see everyone again, especially the weekend after kicking chemo to the curb. Couldn't have asked for better timing, really.

We had our first major snow storm of the season on October 24th and 25th. It snowed over 2 feet in 2 days at Alta and had all of the powderhounds going nuts. I wasn't feeling up to hiking up Collins and getting first tracks on Baldy shoulder just yet, but I wasn't about to let a beautiful storm such as this slip by without my noticing. So I decided to take a nice solo hike up Bells Canyon.
I had never been up Bells, just looked into it from the reservoir, and it was the epitome of beauty covered in fresh snow. I started the hike late in the day and only had 3 hours or so to meander around and explore trails to my hearts content, but I feel I saw a lot of the canyon. I got up to the middle tower before the tracks in the snow ahead of me disappeared: it would seem that the person setting the boot pack up until then had chosen that moment to turn around. I continued on for an hour or so, taking my time and lots of pictures, deeply breathing in that crisp mountain air I so cherish. It felt freeing and almost as though I was accomplishing something-- the culmination of all my trials leading to a moment of astounding perfection and power, I suppose. I can't really describe in any way that would give it justice, but suffice it to say that on that day, during that particular hike, I felt the strongest, luckiest and most content with my life than I had in months, and my oh my did it feel good.

The hike reminded me of this quote from The River Why by David James Duncan:

"And so I learned what solitude really was. It was raw material-- awesome, malleable, older than men or worlds or water. And it was merciless-- for it let a man become precisely what he alone made of himself. One needed either wisdom or tree-bark insensitivity to confront such a fearsome freedom. "


I also went up to the Goldminer's Daughter a couple nights and enjoyed the quality company of Carle, TJ and the slow trickle of returning characters. My latest evening there, I had the pleasure of seeing Y'Olde Burns, Carle, Rigoberto, Liz Page, McEwen, Teej, Rex, Trainer and Licorice!! I mean, good God!, could it get any better? Yes it can. They'll all be back soon, all my beloved besties from my days of living at Alta, each one with a special place in my heart.
I really am lucky to have a place (let alone a breathtaking ski lodge located at the base of a world-renowned ski resort) that I can visit and feel right at home. I don't think a lot of people have that and I appreciate every moment of it.
The morning after one of my evenings there, Carle, Burns, TJ, Rex and I went down to Library Square to attend the live broadcasting of the Rally for Sanity And/Or Fear in DC. It was lots of laughs and I had a great time wandering about looking at people's costumes and clever signs. Well, honestly, some of them weren't that clever, but they were a joy anyway.

While at the rally, I got a call from Sean inviting me to go down to the Diamond Fork hot springs with he and Jeff Story, and I gladly accepted. It started to rain as we were driving through Provo, but that didn't really matter to any of us. In my opinion, camping in adverse weather is almost better when it comes to popular sites like the springs; I have more than enough gear for anything short of a hurricane and it tends to weed out folks who I don't want to be sitting naked in a pool with anyway. People who shoot off firecrackers in the middle of the night, break beer bottles against rocks because they think it's funny, litter into the stream or at the campsites, break branches off the trees to use as firewood, or leave your nasty cigarette butts floating in the water. Straight to hell with all of you people.
Anyway, we had a wonderful day/evening there. Because it was the Saturday before Halloween, it wasn't very busy. I'm sure the weather played a factor, but it seemed as though most folks had somewhere else to be, leaving the upper springs to the three of us. We set up our tents before heading up, then relaxed in the pools for a couple hours, enjoying the feel of the cool raindrops splashing off of our heads and running down our necks as we sat in the luxuriously warm water. We went back down to eat dinner, then Story and Sean went up for an evening dip as I turned in early. I'm still quite anemic, my levels being their lowest, and sleep continues to play a leading role in my life.
I love waking up in a tent, it's such a wonderful pastime, especially in my lovely Mountain 25 after living in it for a summer. Every night I've spent in it since has been reminiscent of Alaskan summer evenings, struggling to fall asleep in the 2 AM sunshine inside of my little yellow lantern of a home. Ah, memories...

I find out about radiation this Friday and everything else will fall into place after that, including recovery times, projected time for reconstruction, etc. I can't wait!! For now, I'll keep going in for Herceptin every three weeks and building my cell levels through diet, exercise and rest. Not a bad plan. :)

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