The Call

Its been a year, today that I got the call. The one that I hear still today in my head, "Heather, unfortunately you do have cancer. You need to come down here as soon as you can. We saved a 3 O' clock appointment for you."

That's it, a real simple call, that took this last year down a path that I just can hardly believe I was strong enough to get through. I am so thankful for every single day and every single lesson I had to face, endure, and learn. I just can hardly believe it. I use the hardly because I am starting to process that yes, I did go through that. It wasn't just some horrible dream.

I've found myself the past few days reliving different things that have happened, things that I had forgotten. Chemo really has "brought" many of my memories somewhere. I was speaking to a friends Dad the other day that is a 9 year survivor of Colon cancer and he said, "Why don't the doc's tell you that your going to lose your memory?" I don't think the doc's understand the brain enough to boldly be able to tell all of us scared out of our pants chemo-virgins all the possible side effects. If he had told me, I don't know if I would have gone through it. I'm sure my family would have talked me into it, but who knows! Last year was horrible. And I don't think the doc's understand why chemo effects spelling for us. Its weird. I also think that one of the main reasons I can't readily remember what I've gone through, or each chemo ( I seriously can't), is that it was safer for my brain to hide those memories from me, so that I could get through it. Like an abused person, stuffing those memories. I understand that.

Like I was saying, I am re-remembering things and yesterday I found myself sobbing as I was driving down the freeway. I had just made my dinner plans at Saltys on Alki with a few friends that can't make my celebration on Saturday (whhhhooooooo hooooo, can't wait) and I told her I really wanted to be outside facing the water (its going to be the rare 84 here today) and she wasn't sure if that would be possible. She asked if I had a special anniversary or bday celebration. I told her its my one year from being diagnosed with breast cancer. She then replied, "I will make sure you have a table." I thanked her, and started to cry. I just had made my dinner plans, to celebrate the end of my old life, and the beginning of my new life. So, yes I am thankful. But I am sad. The sadness is deep and I think the only thing that is going to heal it is for me to write my book. To go back, read it all, and cry for it all.

This weekends ritual will be huge for me. I am really looking forward to honoring the rites of passage and to allow myself to honor all the friends that were my support that got me through this. Without every single body, every single heart, my journey may have been impossible. I am so thankful for all of your support and wise words on here.

There were many days that the only contact I had was seeing the comments left, or the emails sent for you shier ones. Thank you.