Dancing Through Life

Oh you guys, I feel like such an ass. The other day I mentioned that cancer bloggers seem to want to reach out, and really help others, effectively implying that people who have cancer and don't blog don't have the desire to help others. What an idiot! Obviously that's not the case. People reach out, or help out in different ways. Some are communicators, others are fund-raisers (I love a good play on words), some are connectors of people, etc. Some, of course, are barely hanging in there and just need to focus on themselves to survive. And that's exactly what they should be doing. You learn quickly upon diagnosis that no one is going to save you, but you. So in order to help others, you have to put yourself first. Good god I am a fabulous foot-puter-in-mouther. With the bloggers from this past group in NBTS I found that correlation, of wanting to help other cancer fighters, but I didn't mean to isolate everyone else. That's been bothering me since I posted. I recognize that we all have our ways of contributing in this world. 

I hate it when I say stupid stuff, it makes me feel like a complete moron. So please forgive me.

On another note, my bud Jess was in town this weekend, the one who shaved her head with me when I was diagnosed. The one who immediately flew from Abu Dhabi to be with me. The one who has seen me at my worst (shaving my legs for me when I was unable, or even wiping for me because I was out of brain surgery and didn't remember how). Jess came to extend the birthday celebration. This year is seriously chalking up to an epic start! The older we get the more amazing the friendship grows. I assume it's like a good marriage where you both grow, but grow in parallel, separately, but with mutual excitement and wonder. I'm lucky to have her. She just gets better and better, and when I don't think she can impress me any more, she does again. 

We did yoga, and barre, we went kayaking, and picked blackberries; we cooked fabulous meals, and went down to the lake to play dominos. We watched movies, and laughed, and relaxed. She will be finishing her nursing degree in December from John Hopkins, and she practiced by dressing my wounds (three more bad moles removed). I trust her with my life, and most of all, my spirit.

Energy surrounds living things, you can feel it. Sometimes, when you leave a person, you feel exhausted, drained. They pull your energy and you feel zapped. Jess is a battery charger. Our energy is symbiotic. It's an awe-inspiring thing, of which I am extremely grateful. She has a way of knowing how to handle the crazy schedule of pills, and chlorotoxin treatments, but takes it all in stride. It's 30 minutes here (pill time) let's distract ourselves with a yoga video; 30 minutes there (chlorotoxin time) let's rest for a bit and put our feet up. Being with her is like dancing through life. Tedious things become fun; responsibilities become accomplishments.