Mirage-d: Milestones in Dating

People ask me about dating a lot.  How’s It going? Have I found the one? For the most part I’ve been going through the motions – going out on dates, meeting new people and having lovely conversations.  We leave having said the usual pleasantries and maybe we’ll speak again, but most likely we won’t…..Right now, as of writing, it’s 7:44pm, I have a glass of bourbon next to me, and I’m contemplating my first solid disappointment since this all this began. 

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From Cancer to Marathon

Writing this recap feels like it was a year in the making. Oh wait, it was. I hadn’t even finished my Herceptin treatments (IV Infusion) before I decided I was going to run a marathon. It was November last year and I opted for a charity bid in Chicago (which eventually became NYC after New Balance offered to sponsor my bib). I had never run more than 10k before and I knew I was pretty slow. Not to mention my body was still waxing and waning with the post chemo effects and trying to muddle through what Herceptin was doing. Most people start training for their fall marathons in June or July. I started in December 2017.

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So, You're OK Now?


I get the whole “So, you’re OK now?” question a lot. A LOT. And I don’t blame people for asking it, we’re a big picture society, we want the abridged version, the snapshot, the 60 second update and then we want to move on. “How’s the cancer?” “Well, I’m in remission but…” “Fantastic, that’s great news, so glad to hear” and so on and so forth until we land in a much more pleasant conversational setting. I’m about a year and a half out from treatment, and I’m coming up on my two year diagnosi-versary

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Fatigue, Zzzz

"No, I'm not just f*cking tired, thanks".  This tends to be my mental response when I know for a fact that someone thinks I'm full of s*it about fatigue.  I can see the look take over their face, they think I need a nap and I'll be fine.  "Who isn't tired?!" News flash: cancer patients, we're fatigued.  And there's a huge difference. 

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But...what if?

I've never been great at making decisions.  I tend to waffle back and forth (while also involving far too many people in the process - you should have seen me during my lumpectomy/mastectomy decision).  It's a flaw.  But ever since cancer, I have been stricken to the core with fear about making life decisions.  I would love to (insert massive life decision here) but what if...

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One Year

No Evidence of Disease.  Best Possible News.  I heard those words from my surgeon and I was the happiest I had ever been. I pictured myself becoming this golden statue of my former self. A beacon of victory, of hope.  I would make all the right choices.  I would eat all the right foods.  I would commit to the world's healthiest lifestyle and never look back.  I would be reborn.  I am the phoenix, right? K, well, if I am phoenix, it's a pretty mediocre one to be honest. 

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+++

I knew that after active treatment had finished I was going to permanently alter my body.  I was going to get a tattoo.  I was going to control the alteration, and the pain.  This seems to be a common occurrence for cancer survivors, I'd like to believe that because treatment is so traumatic, we are permanently marked anyways.

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How to Survive.

My oncologist told me this day would come.  There were many days I didn't think I would see it.  But here I am, opening an email, a recommendation on how to survive.  The letter in question is my "Survivorship Care Plan".  I never thought I'd see those words being used seriously towards me, not unless there was a Zombie Apocalypse taking place.  But that isn't the case, this isn't that life, this is now and how I can survive it.  Against cancer.  Maybe.

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