If anyone reads my blog you'll know I've had a lot of wasted family drama going on. Most of it took place on Facebook considering it seems to be the only time I have certain people's undivided-attention.
Well as you can imagine people who aren't in my family got involved.
The focal point of this monstrous drama hurricane was, for me at least, my cancer and their lack of and continued lack of support.
Well this one person who got involved beyond appropriate means (more power to ya to post responses. If I'm going to put up anything for the whole world to see its anyone's right to respond.) and made this statement to me that until just a few moments ago I realized made absolutely no sense:
I thought after the cancer we'd see a more kind and thankful John.
I'm baffled and bamboozled. It's as if the subtext is cancer patients and survivors got it for some reason, not just happened to have it. As if there is some sort of cancer drawing where from a collective of all the "miserable" people a few names are drawn to teach them a lesson.
Doesn't that seem cruel and senseless?
Did I come out of it changed? How could I not. I, unlike a lot of the lucky populous, was made completely,totally, and abruptly aware of my mortality. Everyone thinks they understand this concept to a certain degree but until you're sitting in a sterile doctors office with a decree that the world's most deadliest killer is inside of your body you realize how feeble and fragile these outer shells we call bodies are.
And I hope that no one else is this world is ever burdened with the reality of this fact, foolish as that may be.
But cancer is not a learning lesson. It's purpose isn't to make people "better" or "kinder". It's sole purpose is to kill and if it doesn't kill you and you "survive" you wonder if its really gone at all and waste many of the days you have left worrying about all the what ifs.
For example, I recently injured my tongue. The opposite side of the side that the cancer had grown ever so quickly on. And I thought I was past this point, had made progress, but for 5 days I was convinced the cancer had returned and I was doomed. Doomed to die, to lose even more of my tongue, to lose my entire tongue and the ability to speak and so on and so forth.
So you tell me how cancer could improve anyone's temperament, attitude, or personality with a war constantly waging in your mind that the world is blind to because they've all decided since you seem normal on the outside that the fight is over. Or if you do mention it you're having a pity party or feeling sorry for yourself.
I can be strong. Most days I'm capable of putting all the worries and unanswered questions about my future away for a few hours. But no, I will never be the same. And what has put me in a place to never to be the same was not intended to benefit anyone. There is no moral to be learned from cancer as it isn't a fairy tale. There are no fairies, no dragons, no talking animals or over grown beanstalks, no magical glass slippers or mermaid fins. Just a dark monster that can never be removed, surgically or otherwise.
The moral of this blog is- don't open your mouth about something you could never comprehend and wonder what it would be like to be in my shoes- a mere miracle I survived, then survived the treatment and somehow managed to not go insane.