I just finished my sixth chemo. I am up in the middle of the night writing because I am quite sick from the chemo and need something to distract me, so that I don’t throw up again. Quite sadly, when I looked in the mirror as I was brushing my teeth after throwing up, I saw a reflection I did not recognize. I saw a very old man who was quite gaunt, exceedingly pale — almost a gray pallor to his skin — and very thin black and mostly gray hair. While I was tearing up at what I saw in the mirror, the ghost looked back at me with some compassion and nodded his head politely to let me know that yes, this is what I look like with stage four cancer after six rounds of chemo. But this piece is about a less vain reflection and about such enormous gratitude to those who seek me out and work so hard to lift me up and be strong for me when I don’t feel strong.
I want to reflect on the humanity and overwhelming kindness: generosity of heart from so many that I have been able to be in community with while sick. Humanity that seems quite difficult to find in the age of the hypocritical and sociopathic Trump. Since announcing the news of the new cancer, I have been on the receiving end of so much love and so much caring, that I am usually crying tears of joy, with the occasional self-pity big cry of why the fuck me? What if I don’t have what it takes to beat this, as the odds are not good? When I feel defeated and in the pit of despair because of Trump, Pence, Mitch (I have no soul) McConnell, Theresa (I’m so popular) May, Boris (the Klassy version of Trump) Johnson, Jair (closet queen) Bolsonaro and others so full of hate, I have to look to my community of friends and family who help lift me up.
My friends here in Oregon have been so full of love and strength; they combined with all of my family/friends who have traveled from every point in the United States to love on me, have created so much strength for me that when I’m tired I can actually feel myself relaxing and gliding on their cloud of love.
Keeping with the theme of gratitude, I must thank my amazing teach of medical folk at OHSU. This amazing team of people are truly dedicated to helping me stay alive and to help me say Fuck Cancer! There are so many people to thank, so please forgive me if I forget someone: thank you Skye Mayo, Charlie Lopez, my two oncologists and Asher Caldwell my palliative care specialist, and Cheryl my chemo nurse seen in the picture above. Chemo is a horrible, scary journey and on my first chemo Cheryl gave me a huge hug and said thankĀ you just for coming and starting this. I so needed that, as it’s helping me get through and I’m not even in the middle of the journey yet.
As I have been reflecting on my own journey of life, I am have reaffirmed why I have to be here on earth, at least for a little bit longer. I want my legacy to be that I worked tirelessly to make the world a better place for all people, specifically for people with targeted identities that do not have equal access to resources. I want my legacy to be that I worked tirelessly to eradicate misogyny, homophobia, Islamophobia, and racism. Today, my heart goes out to all of the Muslim community. I am so very sorry for your loss today in New Zealand at the hands of a terrorist. Sadly, the President of the United States has only helped to fuel and to normalize such Islamophobia.
Right now, I am having to focus so hard on healing and beating this cancer. Unfortunately, our insurance does not cover all of the expenses and I am not able to work full-time, try though I might. My husband has set up a GoFundMe account to help us with expenses. If you are so inclined, I thank you in advance for all of your help and support. I also hope you will join me in the fight to make this a better world; thatĀ means we need to learn how to live differently and to make sacrifices to leave a better world for posterity.