Somewhere this weekend in the midst of getting hit in the crotch with a wedding bouquet, my legs shaking from exhaustion at the end of girls' night and becoming incredibly nauseous from the smell of asparagus in a buffet line I realized that I crave normalcy.
I find it so incredibly easy to envelope myself in the moment and forget that I am fighting for my life every second of the day. It is so easy for me to shut off my mind and allow myself blissful ignorance, but do I truly gain anything to strengthen who I am by doing that? It was this weekend that embraced friends, soaked up the sun and allowed myself a break … I experienced several windows of ignorant bliss and it was magnificent.
On Friday I went out with my girlfriends to my favorite Japanese steakhouse. I laughed until my belly ached and ate until my heart was content. I made jokes about my cancer and separated myself from the fear, pain and hollowness of the actual disease and talked about it as though it were an ex boyfriend. It was an interesting experiment. It wasn't until later that evening sitting at the bar that my body began shaking and I knew too well what that meant. I had pushed it to its limits and it was time to go home and rest. I embraced my friends and kissed them all on the cheek goodnight. The first night of ignorance was successful and I slept through the entire night peacefully.
Saturday I faced a new challenge … a wedding. I was surrounded by a few close friends, but many people who did not know about my cancer. For one evening … I was just another 20-something woman. It felt nice to just be part of the crowd. I drank, laughed and danced like a robot. It was a beautiful wedding. Once the servers began bringing out the food I felt sheer panic deep in my chest. Oh God … I smell asparagus. My friends quickly ate their food as I felt myself retreat inward. Was I going to throw up? Were the guests looking at me? Could they tell I have cancer? My head was spinning. Within only a couple of minutes I talked myself through the fear that had set in and was back on the dance floor. When it was time for the beautiful bride Christy to throw the bouquet I stayed seated. My friends forced me to go out on the dance floor. I stood off to the side in hopes that I would simply just be one of the crowd and go unnoticed. The bouquet was tossed and veered in my direction. Before I could move out of the way it hit me in the crotch. (Yes, in the crotch!) The girl next to me said "It hit you, so it's yours." I picked it up and thought to myself I wonder if I will live long enough to be married. Am I going to die? I quickly shook that thought. Instead I returned to my friends who joked that perhaps it takes six bouquets to find your prince charming. (Yes, I have caught six bouquets now. I feel like Katherine Hegel in '27 Dresses.') Always a bridesmaid …
This weekend taught me a lot about finding the balance between escaping and engulfing cancer. I need to allow myself both in order to get through this journey mentally and emotionally. The negative thoughts do creep up every once in awhile and I think they come with the territory. I am ok with that since they are in my control. I have come through 18 weeks of chemotherapy and I can face nine more months of surgeries and radiation. No asparagus, bouquets to the crotch or shaky legs will define me. I shall be triumphant, embrace normalcy soon enough and I will find my happily ever after. This I am certain of.
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