I went to my Harvard-trained endocrinologist this morning, who, in spite of her almost autistic bedside manner, managed to make me feel more at ease. As a rhetoric teacher, I should have anticipated that an authority figure saying, "You'll be fine," over and over again might have that effect.
This isn't really about cancer. I mean, this blog. I drove my car two blocks last night without a seat belt on, and a woman almost t-boned me in the La Playita parking lot. I laughed out loud, because thoughts of death have been hanging in my mind for the last few months, but not thoughts-of-death-by-car-last-night-at-La-Playita.
I realized that the last thing I want to feel when I die is any kind of irony.
I am 40. So far, 40 has not been so hot; however, if my cancer acts like it should, I can return to feeling like the second half of my life is just beginning. In a revised sort of way. I can't get life insurance, but that may be one of just a few minor inconveniences I endure.
Is there an upside to having a very treatable form of cancer?
A student of mine told me a story last semester: he was eating a burrito outside a shop in downtown Vallejo (not a very safe place), when a guy walked up and pointed a gun at him. My student had just enough time enough to reflect, "I didn't think I'd die on the streets of V-Town," before the guy pulled the trigger...but he gun jammed. My student wet his pants in fear. Then, the guy pulled the trigger again, and the student felt something hit him hard in the chest. It took his breath away, but strangely, didn't hurt. When he looked down, he saw a blast of blue paint all over his CMA jacket.
The guy pointed at him, laughed maniacally, and ran away.
I can relate!
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I got hit in the ass last year by a red paint pellet that didn't burst, and the next day I found a hundred dollar bill on the ground. I have contemplated death so much. I have felt a frightening cold dark feeling that told me I would be cold and alone when I died. That is the farthest from what I believe now. That was scary, but I like my new plan. :)
ReplyDeleteMy angle on death these days is more focused on the eventual demise of those around me. I have a feeling that I will outlive just about everyone I know, so I mostly try to prepare myself psychologically for many long, solitary nights of watching DVDs and catching up on unread books..
ReplyDeleteI want to know who that man with the paintball gun is.
ReplyDeleteWow - intense paintball story. Never thought I'd string those words together...
ReplyDeleteI think the upside of having a very treatable form of cancer is having a very treatable form of cancer. I have to imagine it's a big uptick from "you have cancer..."
Hope all is well or getting well-er!
j.
I didn't realize what a stupid question that was until I reread it days later. Obviously, the answer is: it's treatable, dummy!
ReplyDeleteOkay, how did this happen? I put you in my reader so I'd know when you posted, and I didn't get any updates.
ReplyDeleteI can't get life insurance either. I've pieced together little policies that don't require an application (through NASW, etc.). If I kick it, nobody's going to live off my insurance money, but it'll be a little nest egg for the boys. Cheerful talk, but I was really worried about it.
Jennifer