A year ago, my optimistic sister told me that my prognosis was hopeful. "I looked it up," she said. "The survival rates for Stage Three Ovarian Cancer are actually quite good!"
"But I have stage FOUR cancer."
"Oh. Oh dear. (oops)."
(I just love that girl she is so funny!)
I actually have a more rare (and deadly) type of ovarian cancer than most teal-ribboned readers--mine is "low-grade." The cancer cells look and act a LOT like my regular cells. They divide slowly, which is good, but they also react less to chemo--chemo attacks fast-growing cells. But then again I have a lightening-speed new lump that just appeared, so once again I am sliding off the bell curve (story of my life).
With low-grade ovarian, odds are that I'll live for 40 months. That's overall. So I would backtrack to the date of surgery, March 2014. Which brings my expiration date to July 2017.
Unless-
(a) a miracle happens (I have my top team working on this), or
(b) I get hit by a texting-while-driving person, or
(c) I once again leap off the bell curve and defy cancer statistics (life in the 5th deviation is invariably interesting).
(d) I did the math wrong (most likely scenario).
An expiration date! I can stride confidently into any supermarket and embrace cans of baked beans that share my unique place in the universe!
But mostly I can plan ahead a little. Life appears different when death is within view. My maternal line live until they're 99. By that age, they truly understand that they will die soon. And accept death with clarity and grace while helping to prepare their survivors for it.
These days I can look at wrinkly old ladies and terminal cancer patients without wonderment, just a deeper understanding of why they're so calm. (Except for the super-crabby old ladies who continually disprove the common "attitude is everything" theory of longevity).
I don't like the idea of putting my family and friends into a position of grief, but there's not much I can do about it. I can try to reduce the damage by planning ahead, and am blessed to have the opportunity to work within a predictable and manageable time period.
(Ooh! Time management skills! I get to use my MBA! I get to use my MBA!)
My mom is 80. She probably won't live past 100. I never argue with her about that perspective. Nor did any of us argue with Granny when she was prepared for death by age 98--we respected Granny for recognizing her expiration date and working so well with it.
I like the idea of facing death with clarity and grace and understanding.
Just because I'm dying inconveniently soon, it doesn't mean that I have to avoid it or regret it or deny it.
In fact, I think I might as well even have some FUN with it. Somebody has to! No point walking around like a bunch of stiffs!
I am NOT a cancer survivor. I can work with whatever life shows me. And I'm Not Dead Yet.
"But I have stage FOUR cancer."
"Oh. Oh dear. (oops)."
(I just love that girl she is so funny!)
I actually have a more rare (and deadly) type of ovarian cancer than most teal-ribboned readers--mine is "low-grade." The cancer cells look and act a LOT like my regular cells. They divide slowly, which is good, but they also react less to chemo--chemo attacks fast-growing cells. But then again I have a lightening-speed new lump that just appeared, so once again I am sliding off the bell curve (story of my life).
With low-grade ovarian, odds are that I'll live for 40 months. That's overall. So I would backtrack to the date of surgery, March 2014. Which brings my expiration date to July 2017.
Unless-
(a) a miracle happens (I have my top team working on this), or
(b) I get hit by a texting-while-driving person, or
(c) I once again leap off the bell curve and defy cancer statistics (life in the 5th deviation is invariably interesting).
(d) I did the math wrong (most likely scenario).
An expiration date! I can stride confidently into any supermarket and embrace cans of baked beans that share my unique place in the universe!
But mostly I can plan ahead a little. Life appears different when death is within view. My maternal line live until they're 99. By that age, they truly understand that they will die soon. And accept death with clarity and grace while helping to prepare their survivors for it.
These days I can look at wrinkly old ladies and terminal cancer patients without wonderment, just a deeper understanding of why they're so calm. (Except for the super-crabby old ladies who continually disprove the common "attitude is everything" theory of longevity).
I don't like the idea of putting my family and friends into a position of grief, but there's not much I can do about it. I can try to reduce the damage by planning ahead, and am blessed to have the opportunity to work within a predictable and manageable time period.
(Ooh! Time management skills! I get to use my MBA! I get to use my MBA!)
My mom is 80. She probably won't live past 100. I never argue with her about that perspective. Nor did any of us argue with Granny when she was prepared for death by age 98--we respected Granny for recognizing her expiration date and working so well with it.
I like the idea of facing death with clarity and grace and understanding.
Just because I'm dying inconveniently soon, it doesn't mean that I have to avoid it or regret it or deny it.
In fact, I think I might as well even have some FUN with it. Somebody has to! No point walking around like a bunch of stiffs!
I am NOT a cancer survivor. I can work with whatever life shows me. And I'm Not Dead Yet.
The ambulance run sheet said DOA when the jaws of life dug me out of the car I was in that was crunched under that 18 wheeler. I felt very peaceful. It reminded me of an ice cube melting in the ocean....then they slapped the oxygen mask on me and revived me. That's all I remember until I came out of the coma 15 days later.
ReplyDeletewell seeing as you "cheated" your way thru algebra-i'm going to go with some bad math..(i don't want to lose you!!!)
ReplyDeleteI didn't cheat! For the record, readers, Coco took a math test in college, got an 'A', then an hour later I took the exact same test, and got a "C". But as we were friends, the prof accused us of cheating! Go figure.
DeleteYep agree with coco your math sucks and I always eat food past its sell by date x
ReplyDeleteP.s. Mike! Big kisses to you!
ReplyDeleteThanks, that Summer with you & Maura & that crazy, fun sister of yours was the best Summer I ever had, what great memories. I'll never let go!!!
DeleteI love you despite your sucky math. And I'm with Laur, I'm going to have breakfast shortly: including yogurt that was best before Sept 26 2015. (Check timestamp on this post.)
ReplyDeleteYeah but where you live everything is permafrost! And hold on, didn't you used to teach me math?
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