For this moment, I have hope.
I went to a cancer resource center here in LA called WeSPARK, founded by Wendy Jo Sperber (you win the trivia contest if you can tell me who she is) who was diagnosed in 1997 and thought cancer patients should have somewhere comfortable and free to come and receive adjunctive care - support groups, exercise classes for people dealing with cancer, etc. She wanted it to feel like home.
WeSPARK was recommended by several friends of friends so I went. The intake counsellor turned out to be my therapist from oh, so long ago when I left my marriage. Couldn't ask for someone more appropriate to help guide me through this new journey since she was so amazing during that last one.
In talking to her about my diagnosis, we of course talked about my life since I last saw her probably five years ago. Back then, I think I had just moved in with my parents, had just started my teaching job and was still trying to figure out if the original OOMA (object of my affection) was something real or if he was just a friend. I was on my way to healing but still had a long way to go.
But in talking with Bonnie, I was overwhelmed by how amazing my life really is. It's easy to forget that in the midst of every day struggles, never mind a breast cancer diagnosis. She kept expressing delight at how things have turned out for me - the fact that I am still teaching fine art and that I love it more than I ever thought I would; that I probably will be running my own studio soon; that I am a fairly successful artist; that art has enriched my life so much; and finally that I'm in a healthy, grown-up relationship with a healthy, grown-up man. She was also delighted to hear how I've learned to handle situations that used to just about cripple me and that I'm finally in a good, strong place mentally.
She pointed out that, yes, these next few months are going to be hell. There's no way they're not. I always liked that she never pulled punches but yet was also gentle and kind and funny. But she said that the best thing I have going for me is that I have such a beautiful life outside of this diagnosis. That I have great friends who are holding my hand. That I have an amazing community who are pulling out all the stops to make sure I'm taken care of. Job that I love. A man who I adore. Those are things a doctor can't prescribe. Those are things that many women going through this journey don't have. And those are the things that will still be there when all is said and done.
Bonnie also emphasized that I should realize that breast cancer isn't an endgame. I can deal with it, especially if it is early. I can handle it. I can come through it to the other side and continue to live this amazing life I've built.
And she also emphasized that this life is amazing and beautiful because I am amazing and beautiful. That I would not have all of you incredible people in my life if I wasn't at least just a little bit incredible myself.
After that meeting, I taught for the next three days. And I looked at my life a little bit differently.
I love the kids I teach. No matter how sad, blue, beat up and pissed off I am, these kids fill my soul. What other job can you have where you get hugged all the time? Where the highest compliment is being told that you're very funny and that makes the class great? And I also get to teach the Filmmaker's daughter, who is a very promising artist and who is one of my favorite kids on earth.
And for today, my body feels good. I did an hour of yoga and was happy to find that my many months of inactivity hasn't killed my flexibility.
And right now, I'm on the bus on my way to the Filmmaker, to sit on his couch and watch "Mad Men" and just enjoy his company.
And for the next few days until I meet with my oncologist and life becomes all about my left breast, I am going to embrace the sense of normalcy and take each day and breathe it in. Yes, I'm terrified and, yes, I'm scared and panicked and all of those things. But underneath all of that, I am hopeful. And I will hang on to that hope into I get to the other side.
I hope to see you there.
