What cancer feels like-
It's a beautiful day in LA today. One of those days where you almost, for an instant, forget that cancer has once invaded your soul.
Crossed the threshold from bad nightmare to horrible, sobering reality.
I'm convinced that cancer is not a disease of the body.
Instead it attacks where we are most vulnerable. It hits us where it hurts most, the most tender of tenderest spots.
I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, hoping to explain to him what the experience is like.
How do you even begin to describe it really?
Hearing those words from your doctor for the first time feels like you're falling down a dark, endless pit. You continue to fall until you hit rock bottom. And although you are bruised, battered, and terrified, you dare not show those around you.
Too much is riding on your faith, too much hope riding on those fake smiles.
And when you land, it feels like are in a pitch black room... soon you notice you are completely and utterly alone. You try as you may to feel around you, but everything seems foreign. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to climb out of. It is cold, dark, and unforgiving.
Soon, you don't even recognize your own body.
Eventually, you learn to feel accustomed to the darkness, stumbling around for anything of significance to remind yourself of the life that seems so far gone.
You hear voices, those of friends and family that are doing their best to support you, but nothing is meaningful.
People say they understand how you feel, but you know this is not true. It's something said to calm your fears, and to calm their worst nightmares.
You live day to day existing. Getting high on pain meds, dilaudid, morphine, fentanyl, providing brief breaks in time, allowing you a deep breath, faint reminders and scents of the old life, one where everything was sweet. When the drugs wear off, you stumble back into the darkness, hoping and praying that it will end soon, be it the treatment, or the life you are clinging so softly onto.
Then, suddenly, almost at the final hour, you seem to notice that you are not alone in dark. You make out faint shapes.
One, two, five. You hear the familiar words of your own worries, voices recounting stories that sound like your own. You feel an immediate bond, one stronger than anything you've ever felt before.
You realize slowly, but surely that you are surrounded by other lost souls. Ones that seem to genuinely understand the depth of your personal pain. Never judging... only accepting our shared fate. This connection doesn't come difficult, it's as natural as the day is bright.
You learn the meaning of friendship, kindness, generosity, patience and love. The darkness slowly begins to subside, leaving behind a brief haze. And though it may not be the shining sun, you realize that the endless night is beginning to actually end.
With it comes a faint haze of sunrise, and as you look around you, you realize you were never really alone. That we are forever connected, and our journey is one that is taken by all of us.
My Planet Cancer experience has showed me that regardless of age, gender, sexual orientation, financial situation, or anything else really, we are all in this together.
Hoping that the chapters of our lives will not be filled with agony about the cancer that struck us, rather filled with a triumphant story of a young person who yearned for more than just being a victim of a horribly insidious disease, but someone who will be remembered as a loving person who did the very best with what he or she was given.
It is the most amazing feeling in the world, one that is undoubtedly one of the few rare gifts of cancer...
... that is it you decide to see it that way.
Crossed the threshold from bad nightmare to horrible, sobering reality.
I'm convinced that cancer is not a disease of the body.
Instead it attacks where we are most vulnerable. It hits us where it hurts most, the most tender of tenderest spots.
I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, hoping to explain to him what the experience is like.
How do you even begin to describe it really?
Hearing those words from your doctor for the first time feels like you're falling down a dark, endless pit. You continue to fall until you hit rock bottom. And although you are bruised, battered, and terrified, you dare not show those around you.
Too much is riding on your faith, too much hope riding on those fake smiles.
And when you land, it feels like are in a pitch black room... soon you notice you are completely and utterly alone. You try as you may to feel around you, but everything seems foreign. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to climb out of. It is cold, dark, and unforgiving.
Soon, you don't even recognize your own body.
Eventually, you learn to feel accustomed to the darkness, stumbling around for anything of significance to remind yourself of the life that seems so far gone.
You hear voices, those of friends and family that are doing their best to support you, but nothing is meaningful.
People say they understand how you feel, but you know this is not true. It's something said to calm your fears, and to calm their worst nightmares.
You live day to day existing. Getting high on pain meds, dilaudid, morphine, fentanyl, providing brief breaks in time, allowing you a deep breath, faint reminders and scents of the old life, one where everything was sweet. When the drugs wear off, you stumble back into the darkness, hoping and praying that it will end soon, be it the treatment, or the life you are clinging so softly onto.
Then, suddenly, almost at the final hour, you seem to notice that you are not alone in dark. You make out faint shapes.
One, two, five. You hear the familiar words of your own worries, voices recounting stories that sound like your own. You feel an immediate bond, one stronger than anything you've ever felt before.
You realize slowly, but surely that you are surrounded by other lost souls. Ones that seem to genuinely understand the depth of your personal pain. Never judging... only accepting our shared fate. This connection doesn't come difficult, it's as natural as the day is bright.
You learn the meaning of friendship, kindness, generosity, patience and love. The darkness slowly begins to subside, leaving behind a brief haze. And though it may not be the shining sun, you realize that the endless night is beginning to actually end.
With it comes a faint haze of sunrise, and as you look around you, you realize you were never really alone. That we are forever connected, and our journey is one that is taken by all of us.
My Planet Cancer experience has showed me that regardless of age, gender, sexual orientation, financial situation, or anything else really, we are all in this together.
Hoping that the chapters of our lives will not be filled with agony about the cancer that struck us, rather filled with a triumphant story of a young person who yearned for more than just being a victim of a horribly insidious disease, but someone who will be remembered as a loving person who did the very best with what he or she was given.
It is the most amazing feeling in the world, one that is undoubtedly one of the few rare gifts of cancer...
... that is it you decide to see it that way.
26 Comments
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Comment by Jamie on May 14, 2008 at 6:38pm -
Absolutely amazing... I'm choking back tears over here... so true. Hugging you very tight!!!
Jamie
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Comment by tgambaro on May 14, 2008 at 7:37pm -
If I had never gotten cancer, then I wouldn't have met you.
Love T
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Comment by Patty Bernardo on May 14, 2008 at 7:42pm - I'm sitting here crying, as you described it SO perfectly!
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Comment by Jenifer on May 14, 2008 at 8:57pm - Once again, another absolutely amazing post, Denny.
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Comment by abbie on May 14, 2008 at 11:00pm - ive only talked to you like once...but as i sit here tears streaming down my face...i want to tell you that i love reading your blogs and posts etc. you catch it just right. and i feel as though everything ive read youve written, ive written myself...
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Comment by JT on May 15, 2008 at 12:42am - ok so i'm the first guy to comment on this post, but it doesn't mean that i'm not crying. :) if i could express myself as well as you can, i feel like i could have written this post about my own planet cancer experience so far. word for word. awesome words, my friend.
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Comment by Denny on May 15, 2008 at 1:47am -
Thanks everyone for the kind words of encouragement. I continue to be inspired by everyone here. It makes thinking about this experience worthwhile, and putting words to my feelings a healing process for me, and hopefully someone else out there.
I greatly appreciate all of your blog comments!
Much love-
Denny
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Comment by guedisg on May 15, 2008 at 4:50am - hey, u help us discover & realise this rare gift, thanks man, thank u
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Comment by Stacy on May 15, 2008 at 1:03pm - I'd have to say that the only good thing that came out of cancer are the people I have met because of it. You have an amazing way of being able to describe things in such a real, but poetic way. I know I say this a lot to you, but you should seriously consider writing a book, or at least publishing some of your writings.
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Comment by Jamie on May 15, 2008 at 1:10pm
- I agree with Stacy, publish your writings.
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