Roses for the journey. Food for our soul while we are on this most challenging journey.
Cancer is not a diagnosis anyone would want but there are some special moments that can really make a difference, moments that would not occur if one was not diagnosed with cancer.
I received three roses this week and thought it might be nice to share them with you.
The First Rose for the Journey
Last week, I was waiting for my blood to be taken at the lab before chemotherapy. Usually there is, at most, maybe one person in front of me in the port line, something an RN has to access as opposed to a phlebotomist. On this day, there were like four people ahead of me!
Outside of the rather smallish waiting area was a volunteer who was asking a question about Keith Urban. She clearly didn’t know who he was and needed to know for whatever puzzle she was attending to. There were three of us, each giving a piece of the answer to her. “He’s a singer”. “He’s from Australia”. “Keith is a country singer from Australia”.
The volunteer made her way into the room with us and next thing you know we are talking about music. Since we were all about the same age (old!!) we found ourselves talking about a huge variety of artists from that time. “Did you like Elvis?” Most answered no to that. We might’ve been too young for him. We spoke about how much the Beatles changed the music scene as well as Chuck Berry and the blues singers who ushered in rock.
Let’s Sing!
Then, out of nowhere, someone started to sing a song from back then. Another joined in as well and soon we were all singing together! We were laughing and having a great time. Each of us was about to receive a chemotherapy treatment but in this moment it was nothing but fun.
We were a varied group. The youngest was probably only in her thirties, a marathon runner with breast cancer. It’s the younger ones that break my heart. Another was a lovely black woman who seemed to be living her best life in spite of it all. There was also a couple, husband and wife. I wasn’t sure which one was there for treatment although I thought it might be the husband. And then there was me as well as the volunteer.
It was a rather motley crew but we had a blast. My heart felt so full from this unusual interaction, one I doubt would happen under normal circumstances but these are not normal circumstances.
The Second Rose for the Journey
Just three days after this I was invited to attend an event given by a group called Pink Ribbon Good (PRG), a really fantastic organization designed to help women going through either breast or gynecological cancer. Through them, after my diagnosis, I received meals delivered to my door, non-toxic cleaning solutions, a vacuum cleaner and transportation to cancer related appointments, if needed. They are only located in a few cities across the country but what an impact they have made!
Celebration of Survival
This meeting was a celebration of survival and, to them, survival applies to anyone once they have been diagnosed. It was held in The Armory STL, a huge building converted into “the biggest bar in STL”. From their website – “Armory STL is home to 250,000 square feet of a variety of immersive, fun, unforgettable entertainment experiences”.
I couldn’t wait to go. I really like PRG but I was also curious to see what this place looked like. We had an incident the day before (an electric pole randomly decided to fall on our car, totaling it. A much longer story) which had really wiped me out coming only two days after chemo. I thought I’d not be up to going but somehow, miraculously, I woke up two minutes prior to my alarm. A sign, I thought!
Off we went, in the rain, to find this place. We got there and we were not disappointed. Up the stairs into a reception area, greeted by volunteers from PRG. Joyous, smiling, and clearly happy we were all there. Some of them were survivors themselves while others were there for other reasons. We were told to get our name tags and get back in line to register. During registration we were given beaded necklaces, like the kind one gets at Mardi Gras, either pink for breast cancer or blue for any of the gynecological cancers. We were also asked how long it had been since our diagnosis. Leis were then given to us its color depending on our answer.
I Felt So Cared For
Next we moved on to another area where we were given swag bags, again, dependent on which type of cancer we had. Since I was a first time attendee, I also received the most wonderful soft throw blanket, baby blue with fluffy clouds printed all over it. One of the other gifts I received was a teal blue shawl, something those of us who are hair challenged can really use since heads get pretty cold without hair! False eyelashes with glue along with eyebrow pencil were other thoughtful gifts.
While the loot was really cool and the breakfast yummy, that was not the best part of being there. There were over 600 women affected by this disease in attendance along with their caregivers for a total of over 1200 people! It was remarkable to see all these warriors together like this. There is a certain strength exhibited by these women and to be in their presence is remarkable. And I’m one of them!
Tears came and went often. I must have had tears in my eyes at least 6 different times. There were other women who I saw holding back tears and some were straight out crying. None of us are alone, the message PRG hoped we received since it is so important to our healing. I wish I had the words to describe the experience but I don’t. It was more than I could ever had expected. Deeply moving.
The Third Rose for the Journey
The third rose came just a few days later. It was chemo Wednesday again. I got to the lab and there was one person ahead of me for the port line. It appeared that the young woman (in her thirties?) was there with her mother but I wasn’t sure.
The younger woman could not sit still and looked visibly extremely uncomfortable. She tried to open a bottle of some kind of energy drink and had to have mom do it for her. Eventually she was called back, leaving mom behind. I asked her mom if that was her daughter. Mom looked up at me with obvious tears in her eyes. I acknowledged that the tears were the answer to my question. I moved over to her and asked her if it was okay if I put my hand on her back. She agreed and the tears flowed. Oh the pain this woman was clearly feeling! My heart broke for her.
The Daughter’s Story
Mom told me the story – her daughter was in the Navy and loved it. I didn’t find out where she was serving but she was exposed to a variety of toxins while overseas fighting for our country. She now has cancer in three different locations – lungs, liver and colon. There may be a fourth location but I’m not sure. I was more “listening” to her heart, not her words.
While her daughter was getting her blood drawn, mom had the time to let her fears out while being supported by someone (me!) also going through cancer treatment. Clearly she felt safe and I felt honored to be present for this special moment. I also felt quite sad.
Not only does it feel terribly wrong that there are so many young people getting cancer but too often the cancer is extremely aggressive. This woman was only diagnosed five months ago and she is obviously stage 4. Mom fears her time with her daughter on this earth is limited yet she is trying to be strong. I am so glad that I could give her those few moments to have her heart heard so she could then be with her daughter coming from a stronger place.
We Were Both Deeply Touched
It was a very special moment for us both.
The worst part of all this was that the daughter has had to fight with the VA to get the benefits she so rightly deserves. Not wanting to get into politics but how is it right to give so much money to those coming from outside our country but not support those brave souls who have looked to give everything for their country? I will never understand our priorities. Never.
These are the moments that would not have happened without my cancer diagnosis. Of course I’d prefer not to have cancer as a squatter in my body but as long as she is there with all her thorns, at least there are roses for the journey.
