What do I know?

For me there are limits to how much "cancer chatter" I can handle in a given day. Maybe it's cumulative and if I hear, read or think too much about cancer, I hit my threshold and freak out a little. I'm really not sure how the equation works, but this week was tough.

The whole Mammogram guideline thing. Ugh, that's about all I can say on that topic. Then there was a story about and NFL wife who died at 42 after battling cancer for 9 or 12 years… too close to my age frankly, for me to think about. Throw in a blog here, a fund-raising email there and all of a sudden, my day/week feels like a cancer-thon.

I was happy to be distracted in fun ways. Like giggling to the point of nearly wetting my pants, tears rolling down my face with girl-friends. Nothing beats that kind of laughter. I had a quiet, network-news free weekend at home.

Something fundamentally changed in me after that diagnosis. It's right here. I see it in that scar or my puffy arm from lymph edema; I am different now. I feel it.

While I feel better than I did a year ago and I am not so consumed with the grab-bag of stuff that cancer brings to a life, I do still get angry about it. I get sad & wish it hadn't happened. I have day dreams of what I would trade to not have to go through cancer. The house? The move? What am I paying for with this whole cancer thing? Is something fabulous awaiting in my future that will outweigh the year I spent fighting cancer? (Ooops, I see the pity party just ahead).

I know I have to remember the strength and love that was shown to me and that came from within me. I have to be calm. I need to know that I am OK. Life is going to be good. Thankfully, I know that.