What is "hard" and what isn't

It's early in this process for me. I know it's very possible that a few months from now I may be singing a different tune. At this moment, though, I'm taking issue with a handful of things I either told myself or was told by someone else, concerning what "life with cancer" would be like. 

Many of the things I was told I would experience, I have. Discomfort, nausea, pain, blah blah blah. 

Many of the things I was told, I'm sure people told me with my best interest at heart, and were only trying to support me. Prepare me. 

At this moment, I'm disagreeing with some of them.

Living with cancer is not hard. It's inconvenient. Unpleasant. Even unfortunate. "Hard" should be reserved for Cerebral Palsy, ALS, Parkinsons, Progeria, any physically debilitating disorder,  hunger, life in the third world, homelessness, etc. 

I'm not "unlucky" and this isn't hardship. I have a car. A job. Insurance. A social life. People who care about me. 

There is nothing I can't do now, with cancer, that I couldn't without it. Period. 

I only feel as bad as I allow myself to feel. Pain, discomfort, nausea--only exist at their worst if I dread it. I'm lucky to have pharmaceutical help with these, but a choice to "embrace the suck" has helped.

 As in, yes, how I feel sucks, but this is how I'm supposed to feel. I'm lucky to be feeling it. 

This is what cancer is to me, right now. The discomfort and unpleasantness is only a small part of a larger experience. An experience that allows a decision to dread it, or embrace it. 

I'm not pretending to enjoy it, I sure as hell don't. 

Surviving cancer is an experience relatively few get to have. Why waste it?  Remember it. 

Laugh after puking up the spaghetti you ate 30 minutes ago. That looks ridiculous in the toilet. Scoff at the idea that things you like are totally off limits. Get angry with limitations and find a way around them.

Adjust, and proceed. 

I hope this doesn't come off as some bullshit virtuous take on an otherwise shitty situation. "I know how good I have it and look how great I am for acknowledging how good I have it!" That isn't my intention.

 Maybe this all sounds angry, and that's probably because I am. I've already had too many moments of "woe is me" and it's not even two weeks in. Enough is enough.

Maybe I'll write another entry in 2 months retracting all of this. 

Maybe this is just me writing something for myself to read, feel good about, and get pumped up for "the fight." To look it over when I'm in the gutter and say "yeah, remember how you felt that day!"

I don't think it is, though. 

My mother battled cancer on and off for 9 years. 

It killed her and I watched it happen--both the process and the event. 

She didn't piss and moan. She didn't talk about how unlucky she was or how many things she wanted to be doing but somehow couldn't. 

She didn't talk about how hard it was. 

Near the end, I watched her take a step down off our porch on the way to the car. Her leg gave out, and she fell down a few stairs to the ground. She refused my help, got up, looked at me and said "go open my damn door." She had a way with words. 

She would talk about how shitty she felt, but she wouldn't complain about it. 

She just felt shitty. Then she went to work, raised a family, organized countless team dinners for countless games, served as President of the Downtown Coaches Club, the MSU football booster, went to my games, gave advice, listened, donated her time, donated her money, traveled, lived. 

And when her time came, she still didn't curse the world or want for things she didn't have. She wasn't unlucky. She died with her family surrounding her. 

My experience will be different. 

Living with cancer is not hard. Dying is hard. 

I get to survive this thing--to do something she didn't.  I'm lucky for this chance. This opportunity. 

So I'm going to fucking embrace it. 

And go eat some more spaghetti right now. 

It'll look funny in the toilet.