Start Mechlorethamine Hydrochloride (Nitrogen Mustard) today to remove topical lesions.
*Anticipate more tiredness.
*Anticipate cell death.
*Keep out of direct sunlight.
*New blood work to avoid drug induced blood cancer.
*Figure out who to tell / how to tell.
*Stop crying so much this week.
Quote of the Day:
“I just hope for you that someday you’ll get it together.”
For me, one of the most harmful criticisms or suggestions is the phrase, “Get it together.”
A significant part of life, a good life, is striving. We spend our whole lives trying to get things together. We wish to keep our faith and our choices together, our education together with our career goals and life passions, push together our life trajectory with our families and loved ones, ad infinitum.
Personally, I spent years avoiding the desire to keep it together. It’s very hard for me to want anything out loud. Even when out loud is just in my heart or within my own mind. One of my worst vulnerabilities is the fear and pain from a dashed expectation.
For several years I lived with denial. I denied how badly I wished to keep my parents together when I was a child of divorce. I denied the constant fear of never making friends and finding companionship or togetherness as an isolated, home-schooled teenager. I denied my orientation for all my teens and most of my twenties because I worried it couldn’t reconcile with my faith as I walk together with Christ.
I’ve spent two years denying that my life is never going to be the same again. I am never going to get together with the Samantha of 2012.
I can’t get my treatment, my grand(Parent) and dearest confidant’s inability to recognize me, my love of learning and growing in my field and this deep -bone deep – tiredness together.
Accolades and blessings have offered peaks to this roller coaster that I just can’t seem to stop. Friendships, invigorated faith, this pause- this two year white noise- to observe and admire and cherish have enriched my life.
But this is still an ongoing ride that I have no control over. I’m scared and erratic and terrible nervous about my inability to keep it together. This is still white noise that blocks out much rational thought and hope and drives me headlong in a desperate bid for validity. I’m not sure what this life will represent when I’m done. I’m not sure how my existence will be useful or interpretive. I hate this.
If I were to tattoo an inspirational quote somewhere on this vengeful, betraying body, undoubtedly it would be wordy and most likely something to this affect:
“If we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go into business, because we’d be cynical. Well, that’s nonsense. You’ve got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.”
I cannot call today’s mind storm anything remotely close to intellect, but the conclusion I keep coming back to is “fuck getting it together.”
This is my disease, this is God’s will, this is life. If the pressures of getting it together paints my life with crippling fear and anxiety then it’s time to find a new life motto and make wings on the fall down.
Family. Friendship. Community. Kindness. Charity. Humor. These are the things that I feel naturally come together. These will be my mottos.
This afternoon I’m going to leave work early, spend a few more hours with my family, find something to laugh about, cry with my Mom, cry with my Dad and start again. I hope to fail a little less with each step and quit pretending I have any control in this or that there is much together to get.