debutaunt.com

It *is* a Good Thing

I wanted to be Martha Stewart the day I saw her cover a hot water bottle with a cashmere knitted cover. How cozy is that?

The Internets She never sleep.

And thank goodness for that. Because I went to be BEFORE 9am and here it is - 3am - and I'm awake. Skeery. But that's about how many hours of sleep I needed pre-this. Besides, I'm behind on my The Manolo reading as well as my many lovely blog friends.

Someone told me that if you are awake at 3am that you should pray for troubled souls. That it's the devil's hour and he tortures people at that time. I can't tell you how many blogs I have read or people I know that talk about being awake at 3am, but that's a lot of tortured souls. That damn devil is... well, the devil. He's a busy mofo.

I wonder if this came from the same school of thought as the scientologists. My friend Jewels sent me this info. Basically according to L Ron:

Hubbard: They would say that the cancer and its cure are just incidental to the main problem of one's "spiritual development." And according to Dianetics and Scientology, the explanation for cancer is basically that you have a sex problem?

Ok. I'm not even going to address that right now because I no longer even want to think about sex. I'll just be a mass of dividing cells for now. That part of my debu_life is on hold. (mainly because any dude that wants to have sex with a bald chick, probably ain't one I want to be near. Except maybe with a restraining order and/or a big cop with a gun.)

I got a comment from riverbend about an old entry. I think I was lamenting feeling guilty for thinking my life is so hard. And the funny thing is that I still feel that way. I feel guilty when I think "shit, I have cancer."

Because all it takes is a surf of the net or one visit to MD Anderson to realize, "hey, my life may suck *now,* but there are people out there who are perfectly healthy who are hurting ten times worse than me." And at MDA, there are some really sick people. People with some badass f*cking cancers and scars you can and cannot see. People who really are dying. Or have just given up on their fight and can't fight anymore.

And on the internet, sometimes you read things about people and it makes you grateful for the lot you got in life - even when that lot is cancer.

I feel broken, but not beaten. I know that the only way people can tell that I'm ill is by my bald head. But at MDA, it's nice because everyone is used to it, so they don't stare. Since I am a fierce warrior, I like to dress up to my appointments. When you are bald, and have to wear a mask and gloves, well, sometimes you look like a boy. I wore one of my favorite Loehman's shirts - it's really 'fancy,' and some great earrings Meerkat got for me. I also wore my sandals and my skinny jeans (which no mas es too skinny). I ditch the makeup, other than my Bonnie Bell Dr. Pepper lipgloss, because it's too much trouble. But I always wear perfume and look cute.

I had to push a wheelchair because I bring my meds and my Dracula Blood notebook and couldn't carry all that crap AND walk the 2,000 miles to the clinic. But when I had my name called to have my blood drawn, I walked as fiercely as possible. Bald head and all.

Then I got the lovely inter.the.cal (again, thank goodness it's not inter.fecal), chemo. That went ok, but next time I'm taking them up on their blanket offer. You have to lay flat for an hour after and it gets a wee bit chilly. It was painful, but my PA hooked me up with some "take the edge off" stuff. Yay for my pharmacist.

After all that was done, Dad and I went to dinner. Now coming from a big family, it's very rare that you just get a one on one dinner. Usually when we invade a place (and yes, the debu_clan invades with 23 total peeps strong when we are all together), there are sisters and nephews and all the gang.

But last night was just me and my sweet dad. I was craving some food. Like real food. So we went to this really nice steak house (Pappas for those in Htown). The prices were steep, the waiters *um* HOT - yeah HOT, and the food was amazing. It was a really nice time.

And I walked my fierce bald self through that restaurant like I owned it. Ok. So it was like way early, and there weren't that many people there, but I was working it.

We talked to the waiter a bit and he mentioned that they had another waiter who just finished chemo. It made me sad because I could tell it affected the entire staff.

I have noticed that people are so nice to me, but part of that is the universal sadness. The sadness of cancer and how many people it involves. Pretty much every single person I know knows of someone who has/had cancer.

That cancer. It just gets you. And it doesn't discriminate. Which is why I feel grateful for the lot I got. I'm blessed with my family and friends. I have a sweet daughter who is funny, adorable, and bright as the stars. While some days I'm like, "Is this really happening to me?" Other days I think, "yes, it is. And while you have cancer, you still are a pretty damn fortunate person."

I was blessed before, and feel even more so now.

So, since today is Thanksgiving, it's audience participation time. I want you all to leave me a comment and tell me what things you feel blessed for. Even if it's just one thing.

Because just when you think your lot is overwhelming and you start feeling sorry for yourself (or piling shit on your head as my mom would say), you take a look at the next guy. And trust me. It really will make you Thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving. I love you my internets!

I can do this. And then I'm going to eat some turkey and pie.

My Turkey Day List:

I'm thankful for:

Being alive. Thankya kindly, God. You rawk. I think that's why I don't want to sleep. I just want to be awake as much as I can. Maybe that's why Martha Stewart only sleeps like four hours a night. She knows she's got good things to get to.

My Zoe and her smile, now missing two top front teeth, and her laugh and talking to her on the phone and her jokes and knowing she is safe and loved. I am thankful to be able to see her today and to squish that child. She's my heart. I'm lucky to have my family to take care of her. So that she knows she is loved too.

My family. A rare and wonderous group. The kindest, funniest, and most caring people I know on this planet. I love seeing my mom and dad, and sitting at Sis #1's house. I have known I was loved from the day I was born, and that feeling has never waivered. I know it now more than ever. This also includes my "in laws." Sis #1's in-laws who have so kindly let me stay at their house. Now I know why my brotherfromanothermother is such a great guy - he has such great folks.

My friends. They truly are the best. Even those who have wandered here that I have never met. You all have made me feel supported and loved during this trying time. I hope I never have to repay the 'cancer' favor, but whatever lot you are going through in life, I will try to be as good of friend to you as you have to me. Especially my Trifecta of Awesome - the trio getting me through this with a smile on my face. A huge Muchos gracias go to Ms. Pants who initially set this site up for moi.

My debu_team at MD Anderson. The technology, the pharmacists, my great doctors, the progress, the research, the knowledge - even my chemo, Uma, who is going to help me kick this. A girl could get overwhelmed if she didn't trust in that.

My computer. I feel connected.

My Dracula Blood. I hate you like the bitch you are, but I have a feeling you have changed my life in ways that I don't know yet. I'll be watching you.

The little things that make me feel normal: perfume, yogurt, my blog, coffee in the morning, reading my friend's blogs, email, forums, my favorite jeans, and my button up shirts that are so not a hospital gown. And my earrings. They remind me that one day I will again be just regular me and won't have cancer.

Thank you for another day.

Posted by debutaunt at November 24, 2005 02:49 AM