CANCER: Good Days and Bad Days

Back when I was diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma, many a wise doctor said to me that while I undergo chemo, I would experience: "good" days and "bad" days. Now, most of my life I've been a relatively healthy person- and truly, even for a cancer patient, I still consider myself to be relatively healthy. I mean, have you seen some of the people with this disease? They look like shit.

But seriously, going into this I really thought I had a good sense of what the words good, bad and yes, even DAY meant. However, all things related to cancer have given me some insight into the fact that I really am dyslexic and everything I thought I knew means nothing. Why yes, I'll take my slice of humble-pie a la mode.....

So let's chat about good vs. bad days. First off, every time this has been mentioned to me by a member of the medical establishment, I feel like I'm talking to some wise-shaman who just descended from some mountain peak. It's delivered with this hushed, knowing tone- cue long white coat, wrinkled brow, and hands clasped behind their backs. "AH! Grasshopper, you will have GOOD and BAD days...." Now in my feeble mind, I figured- What the Hell? BEFORE I had cancer, I had good and bad days...managed to survive them just fine. In other words, I couldn't figure out just what in the Hell was being implied.

And then it all started.....

Initially a good day included things like- getting out of  bed, taking a decent crap, and feeling hungry. Well, that was just silly of me. I have now reduced my notion of a good day to include things like: being able to tolerate daylight and being able to remember to wipe my butt, post my prized poop session.

Now in my past life, a bad day would include things like: a call from the boy's school principal, registered mail from the IRS and any conversation with an attorney. In other words, child's play......

Well, I have since changed my perspective. I've shared some of the craziness associated with this disease. And, yes most of the time it's pretty damn funny. (Whereas that shit with the IRS is NOT funny- ever, well sometimes it is..) But my bad days have taken on a new nuance. It usually includes me thinking things like: "Dear Lord, I do NOT want to faint in the grocery store aisle" unless I'm someplace like WholeFoods or Nordstrom.  And, double checking that the boys are wearing seat belts should I need to guide the car off the street to allow for said fainting spell.

Yesterday, a bad day- my mom summed it up best when she called my sister and told her: "Hey, I need you to come over here and get your sister. She's really unstable and shaky."

Unstable AND shaky?

But you know what they say: Mother knows best. She was right. Bad days are no longer about the crap that is being "inflicted" upon me- like traffic jams, smelly hippies, and mediocre salsa...My new bad days reality are about my true inability to reliably get myself through the day, intact and whole. Wow!

And here's the thing- cancer is an awesome excuse for this. To be unstable and shaky and NOT have cancer would make me a total dick. And no one would want to be associated with my ass. They'd be like: "Oh, there goes that crazy bitch, Yvette. I really hate her. She's so unstable and shaky."  But to be this way due to my cancer treatment elevates my status to "fighter" or "champion." And in our culure, we rally around people like this. Don't get me wrong- I freakin' despise pity. And whenever anyone dares to give me the "Oh, you have cancer" pity face, I swear that I'll punch them in the face. Really.

My friend Cyrus Habib- a three time cancer survivor and a true bad ass- told me: "Yvette, once you beat this, you'll be untouchable." I replied- "Well, I thought just by being African American-ish, I already had some serious street cred." Ha! But apparently, this will change when I get to add to my title: Cancer SURVIVOR.

In the meantime however, I'm going to relish in my new-found status as fighter, and encourage everyone and anyone who wishes to do so, to please continue to reach out and well, er, touch (?) me...just be sure to wash your hands first, you filthy beasts! I'm immune compromised, after all and can be felled by something as minor as unwashed melon......