A fantastic new resource

A few days ago I stumbled upon the site of an organization for young adult (aged 25-40) cancer patients called I'm Too Young For This! Cancer Foundation (or i[2]y).  While my tumor is not cancerous (and hopefully never will be! AMEN), the lifetime "illness" or condition I now have to live with is just about as close as you can get to cancer, IMO.  They're treated the same (surgery, radiation, chemo) and for brain tumors, the line that divides non-cancerous brain tumors from cancerous ones is pretty blurred.  Anyway, long story short, I've found this site to be really helpful and relatable and full of information.

My favorite part is a blog on the site called The Stupid Cancer Blog.  This blog is SO refreshing!!  It offers insight and puts into words some of feelings and experiences that I didn't quite know how to say myself.  It also makes me think, "Wow, I'm not the only one that feels this way!"  And support, even virtual support, is really important.

I wanted to share some of my favorite quotes from the blog, as they are spot-on to me.

From "Cancer Frenemies: When Good Friends Say Bad Things":

Cancer can bring out the stupid in people. Complete strangers and well-meaning acquaintances blurt out the most insensitive things right to survivors’ faces. 

Nita, who had a double mastectomy after she got breast cancer in her late twenties, was told by a coworker, “I don’t know why you are so hung up on breasts. Look at me; mine are small.”

Most friends and acquaintances are very supportive, even when they don't know what to say (and I don't blame them).  But the thing that drives me NUTS is when I tell someone about the differences in my brain post-surgery, specifically my completely MIA sense of direction and (dis)ability to orient myself, and the person goes "Oh yeah, my sense of direction sucks too."  I'm sorry, but it is NOT the same thing.  I'm not going to get into details explaining how my brain is now, as I've done it plenty of times on here, but there's a huge difference.  And I know the person is only saying it to make me feel like I'm not alone in my difficulties with direction, but the effect they're getting is the opposite.  And it REALLY bothers me.

From "The Fear of Recurrence: Cancer's Evil Twin":

Friends tried to brush my concerns aside. “You’ll be fine,” they would say. “You shouldn’t worry so much. We could all get hit by a bus tomorrow.” They meant well and they thought they grasped the fleeting nature of life with their freak-accident analogies, but cancer survivors don’t have the luxury of dealing in generalities. We have had been told by medical experts that we have a life threatening illness, and because of the limits of science, we must wait and see if it kills us. Or not.

This blog entry is about the fear or recurrence (ha! duh, from the title) and being hyperaware of what is going on with our bodies.  But this paragraph in particular really resonates with me.  When I've mentioned my fear of death (or more specifically, dying young or dying younger than I would like) to people, I've had people on multiple occasions tell me, "But you could get hit by a bus tomorrow.  There are no guarantees in life."  I KNOW.  But it is very different when there is a tumor or cells living in your body, that you already know is/are there, that will (likely) be the source of your demise someday.  Yes, there are no guarantees in life.  But knowing that I must wait and see if it kills me is a whole different beast.

There's also a blog entry called "Scanitis: When Cancer Screenings Fill You with Dread" that is pretty accurate, about how it feels before each MRI.  I'm pretty certain that I'll never go into an MRI feeling totally confident or remotely relaxed.  I try to prep myself for bad news, as I don't want to be surprised.  It's hard.  But the feeling after getting good news from Dr. M is the most wonderful feeling ever.  EVER.

I feel like I've just vented a bit (feels good!) and that was not my intent by sharing about this blog.  But it's so comforting to read something that someone else wrote that hits home for me.  There is an i[2]y happy hour coming up in Seattle in a couple of weeks (called the Stupid Cancer Happy Hour) that I am really excited to attend.  I'm going with a friend of mine that was diagnosed with cancer in 2011, and possibly a 2nd friend too.  And I can't wait!  It's so refreshing to be around young people (hey, 31 is STILL young, I say!) in a similar situation.  I'm confident that it'll be a much better experience than my attempt at the brain tumor support group.  Yikes.  Will let you know how it goes!