Not that crazy.

Most people would think surviving cancer is a crazy difficult battle. Then to also have open heart surgery to remove the golf ball sized clot, that caused end stage cardiomyopathy, would be a pretty crazy, difficult experience. Or just six months after this, needing another open heart surgery to transplant the heart of a US Navy Flight Surgeon into my body, replacing my failure heart and removing the heart pump that was plugged into 120v power 24 hours per day. Nope, not that crazy.

It’s the time beyond the life expectancy figures that I spent countless hours reading on the internet, while waiting for the call for my new heart, to see how many years I have potentially. What does that life look like? Is it actual living? Does it require being a prisoner of your own body?  Is that really living?

Then seven years later, you get diagnosed with another type of cancer and it makes you think… is this the beginning of the end? Is it the end? We all are faced with these questions, but majority of us don’t think about these questions until you  or someone extremely close to you, experiences a life changing health issue. What do you do next? What does giving up look like? What does fighting look like?

How much pain is too much? Can you take more? Can you take more emotional stress, from impending procedures and surgeries that might be needed to save your life? What does your life look like?

#survivorship

#cancersurvivor

#fuckcancer

Smile!

A smile is all it took. Heading to the grocery store and to get Linky a treat, in this inferno heat wave. With my safari hat stuffed under my helmet, riding along the shaded bike path, just not comfortable. Grimacing as I turn my head to get a better peripheral view, of my blind spots. Not an enjoyable ride. Rolling to a stop sign, I stop as the law says. A beautiful woman in her car smiled and waved me on. Her smile was contagious and I’ve had a better day since. Smiles can save a life, or at the least improve someone’s shitty day.

Endless Rapids

A major contribution to my recent mental health decline during this skin cancer diagnosis, has been my first hand experiencing and witnessing of my mom’s worsening psychological condition, for the past several months. In person it was the most excruciating experience, especially as she was my biggest safety blanket during my initial diagnosis with cancer. She was with me for every single needle stick and chemotherapy pill, at the beginning of this insane medical journey of mine, back in 2004. Then when I had the heart attack, she was able to come visit me in the hospital and just was that fucking rock that I always could rely on, and lay my head when I needed to cry. Then she was diagnosed with lung and liver cancer (right after discovering her having the BRCA gene/getting double mastectomy 👍). The radiation and chemotherapy completed blasted her mind. If you think my story is crazy, it’s nothing compared to the legend my mom is/was. Now that I left her and tried to live my dreams of living in my camper on the road, she’s not there anymore for calls. For texts. She’s beyond confused and is doing the best she can living the best life she can. I realized that since I she is unable to be that person that I need. I now need to find professional help. Day by day.