My Father called me at work to tell me he had cancer. He was given a prognosis of 6 months. I remember the elevator ride; the falling vertigo from within it, and then emerging on to Georgia Street, deaf. There was a sea of passerby and transport on the street, all silent, and blurry and in slow motion like we were underwater.
I have the misfortune of knowing what it feels like to have had a loved one diagonosed and then killed by cancer. And now, I have the grave misfortune of knowing how he felt in each of the minutes, hours and days after his prognosis.
My friends and family, and even my acquaintances, need to figure out what part of this cancer is about them, then they need to deal with it. As for me, it's not too hard to figure out what part of this is about me; and I need to deal with that. Cancer hurts everyone involved; every single one.
For those that have felt the pains of not getting a return phone call or email from me, they need to isolate how it feels to not get called back, how it sends them into doubt about who they are and what they said, and then they need to multiply that feeling by a billion; that's the measure of pain for what I've been feelilng; it disables me.
Someone asked me if it's okay to cry around me. I like people who hear sad stories and cry; my psychiatrist even cried when I told her the facts! If no one that I know was crying, if no one said the wrong thing and if no one didn't know what to say, it would be an awful lot like the Truman Story, wouldn't it? How bizarre would that feel for me? Everyone smiling and saying the right thing all the time, yuck.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
10 comments:
Triece,
I have wanted to call you since I heard the update on your health...I have thought of nothing else but you as I drive all over for work. But I haven't and the only reason it I'm afraid. Selfish, but I'm afraid that if I talk to you it will be all too real...and I'm just upset about the whole damn thing. You, Kelly and Max are all I've thought of for the last week. I am so freckin mad I want to climb the tallest mountain and scream. I want to get on a plane and come visit you --- to do whatever, anything...everything.
What can I do for you Treice. Please if there is ANYTHING I want to do something.
Your friend in New Jersey
Peg
Treice!
Now the anvil may be the only thing ACME got right....and it did dangle precariously over the roadrunner on more than one occassion...and yet...the roadrunner prevailed!
Your Wile E. Coyote will be outmarted...it's destiny....
thank you for your selfless sharing of yourself and these enlightening and frightening thoughts
i send you comfort and fighting, passionate, fierce thoughts...
you are one powerful woman Treice...
Triece - I am glad you have put together a blog. It helps you externalize your feelings that are coming from within. You have the freedom to express these thoughts and emotions with out audible "words" or the lack thereof, getting in the way.
As expressed by your friend Peg, family and friends can sometimes feel overwhelmed with the very thought that you have cancer or the thought that cancer kills. You are loved Triece by your family, by your friends and we want to be there in any way that we can.
Distance is such a huge factor. We practically live at opposite corners of our continent, and that really sucks, but know Triece, anything that I (and my husband) can do for you we want to do; I believe that family is the bonded together not only through blood, but through love because it takes love to make a family...So all that to say Triece...I am "there" with you Triece regardless of the miles that separate us. How i do wish that i could be there to hug you, and to hold Max whom i have never met!
We all know that many cancers are incurable. However yours is extremely disheartening because it "should" be curable, and the Doctors ignored your call out for help. Many "if only's" must pass through your thoughts daily. I imagine that you are very angry, and that you are crushed at the same time by this "anvil" that is on your head. It is heavy and you feel like you can't get out from underneath it. YOU CAN!!!!....have faith!!!!! If we have no faith, than there is no hope. What a horrible place to be at. So please - have faith that there can be a change in your body, that the cancer can be beat. Lymph nodes can be removed and diet can extremely improve your immune system. I say, don't wait to start researching your options for oncologists, and nutritionists. Start now - the longer you wait the more chances you are giving the cancer cells to spread and grow.
Anyway, i have gone on way longer than i needed to. I just want to leave you with this.....something to think about....
Jer. 29:11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.
My love is with you Triece.
I will keep in touch.
Nadine
My dear Treice,
you know I love you, and I pray every day for you and Max and Kelly. It was so wonderful to have you here at Christmas, and I so want to be able to have you here for all the years to come.
I know that you will never give up, although there will be days when it will be so hard not to.
I will continue to pray and send you my love and whatever strength I can send. You are in my heart and my thoughts all through the day, every day.
Lydia called to say she dreamed of you last night. Becky says she stares at your photo and prays. Cathy says she prays for you on the bus.
Please tell me what I can do. For I must do something.
But this is about you and Max and Kelly, but mostly about you, and you are the one that needs to know that we all love you and want to do whatever we can for you.
My heart breaks for my son, Kelly, who waited so long to find 'the one', and for the glorious Max, that he will get to keep you for all time, but mostly for you, who has to go through this, which I can not even imagine.
Just babbling now. Talk soon. All my love,
Georgette.
My Sister,
Reach the buoyant surface and breath again this beautiful life.
Sometimes the screams are heard as starfish singing and the blowfish get that trumpet echo, like Dizzy, my sister.
I WISH we could separate the pains from your personal battle.
You are loved and you are blessed with a beautiful family worth fighting for. The anvil needs advil and the cancer bug needs a good arse kickin'.
In the words of Monty Burns:
"Push out the jive,
Bring in the LOVE!"
WE ARE ALWAYS HERE FOR YOU.
Love,
Jojo
This blog is just one more gift that you have given us, the people who love you. You are one of the most articulate people I know. I think the way that you describe life and what you are dealing with is just so real. I'm grateful that you have a place to feel and that you are willing to share it.
I will check back often.
I love you!
barb
Treice,
Your words are so beautifully crafted. They magically express your essence and assert your rightful place in the world. A place that we are rooting for you to keep, even when your own energy to do so flags.
I remember sending you my journal while you were in Japan, and I was figuring out my (then) new relationship with Dennis. You could have had a second career as a counselor. Additionally you have a great gift for self expression.
I'm with Barb when she says what a gift your blog is.
Thanks for continuing to shine.
Thinking of you all the time.
Love,
Soressa
Ah Treice,
Thank you for this blog. I really thirst for knowing how you are doing, what you are thinking, and hearing the anguish that this new diagnosis brings. I want to hear it all. The journey of cancer -- can there be a more personal experience?
Your body,your baby your husband your family your voice -- your courage in sharing it. I love you so!
Thank you for this generosity to the many of us who lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove you
Hey Triece -
Just checkin with you today. Any more news?
I have been thinking about you all weekend. You are on my heart and in my thoughts and prayers.
Love you!
trust. that's the key isn't it?
we should trust you enough to know that you will accept how we (and i mean all of us, not just the immediate ones to me) react to what you are going through with grace, realism, thoughtfulness, humour, and honesty. We should get out of our heads and go to you... not avoid, not stay quiet, not "not bother" you. Right? Because whether we have 2 minutes or 2 centuries left with you in our lives, we should be treasuring them all and going out of our way to ensure you know we love you... not that we're scared, or sad, or confused, or speechless, or angry, or effusive with offers...
tell us what you need... i'm so glad to have found your blog - and i'm embarassed that i didn't find it sooner... a little mad that none of the rest of the family clued me in, and angry at myself for not seeking it out, knowing that you of all people would do exactly this... because you are so deeply honest and loving and beautiful.
and i should know that. and trust that.
as valentine's day rounds the corner, i can't help but remember your beautiful gift to Kelly of the 100 things... and wonder how anything can top that, and remember that you continue to do it time and again. your creative spirit will find a way to love yourself as much and love the cancer right out of you...
you are an extraordinary woman, and thus, the odds really are in your favour, aren't they? that tiny percentile is right where you fit in so many other ways, why should this be any different.
words at this point seem kind of pointless. so... action.
we'll both be there on friday. i know you'll be inundated with attention, and i hope we get just 10 minutes to reconnect.
enough. let's kick some fat-assed bastard butt... and save me a dance, would ya?
love
kera
Post a Comment