Suck It Up, Buttercup

A few days ago I performed likely the worst Youtube vlog video that has ever been created.  I don’t like it, and I want to take that particular video down…but I’m not gonna.  Why not?  Because I am as imperfect as imperfect could possibly be, and people need to see that part, too.  When I started throwing this cancer energy out into the world, it wasn’t only to promote how talented I am at hiding my feelings.  Rather, the intent was to show everything – and I mean everything – that happens to someone like me when they are diagnosed with a terminal illness and are preparing to die.  The search for perfection has to end.

Someone like me?  Yup.  A triple type A middle-aged control freak who cannot fathom the thought of non-existence.  A person so capable of convincing herself and others that all is right with the world and the “I can handle it, I got it covered” mentality.  Someone who has centered her life around ensuring others would only look at the great success created (whether or not it was actually success) and promoting an atmosphere of oooooohs and ahhhhhs and – ok, ok…had enough? Me too.  I will stop explaining who I think I am because right now it seems to be only a mirage of self-doubt if you get right down to it.

so far I have written two paragraphs that mean absolutely nothing.  Can you see that?  Apparently, my talent at bullshit hasn’t taken a hit yet.  hum-dee-dum, what do I write about?

I hate cancer.  That has been a theme for the past year and a half.  I don’t know how much more emphasis I can put on the word “hate” but imagine something you feel so strongly about that it causes actual negative physical emotion, and magnify it by a million.  You might come close to understanding my use of that word, but I doubt it.  Even I – the one who feels it – cannot explain it in an approriate manner.  Dammit.   Mayday, mayday…anyone there?  Goin’ down in flames over here…

Ok.  Reboot.  What the hell am I talking about?

I am talking about how badly I want my life back.  I want to wake up in the morning and think about something besides cancer.  Anything.  But I am having a difficult time with it – my thought process.  I wake up, I feel pain, I think about cancer, I realize that is my world now and spend the next fifteen minutes convincing my body to not pull the covers back over my head.  I tell myself there are a million reasons I need to exert my energy into the world, alive, and further convince my mind that I have to find one thing – just one – to be thankful for.

Some may say, “You are alive, be thankful.”


Really?  Really?!  I am about to start a process that I am fully aware is going to cause my body an ungodly amount of sickness and pain, make it difficult to pee, poop, walk across the room without throwing up, disallow me to spend good times with my family…and you want me to be thankful?  Some others may say “You have a beautiful young daughter who loves and needs you.  She deserves to have a mother, be thankful for her.”  Friggin’ seriously?  You actually think that beautiful, smart, love of my life girl wants a mom who consistently reminds her of illness, is the epitome of a spiritually broken woman and is angry at the entire world – you want me to be thankful this is happening to her?  Not on your life.

Truth is right now, I agree with you.  I agree the paragraph you just read is awful.  I agree that I need to adjust my attitude and be grateful to have the opportunity to experience life regardless of its side effects.  I am trying to decide if this is a mind-over-matter issue or is it just that I am an ugly person?  Or maybe…maybe I am a good person, and I know I am a good person, and shit like this should not happen to good people.  (Um, then Cin…who do you propose it should happen to? Moron.)  And it makes me angry that life is not fair.  That life – life – is going to destroy a tiny human who every day depends on its comforts.  I love her and the very thought makes me furious.

And then I think about me.  I think about how selfish it feels to want to give this to someone disease and all that comes with it to someone else.  I realize how prejudice it seems to visualize a more “deserving” human.  Oh come on – we all have prejudice.  We just do.  In my mind, a more deserving person, or rather population, are the child molesters of the world, or the drug user who doesn’t care about anything but his/her next fix, or murderers…I could go on.  But, how can I do that?  Each of those individuals, even as a population, were not born that way.  They had some shitty life circumstance that allowed the universe to hand them the life they have.  So why them?  Because it is what I think?  I must be pretty arrogant in that manner of thought, right?

So when I think about these things and try to find the tiny little box that my brain wants to put it in, I realize we – every single one of us – have no control over anything.  And no matter how hard I try to hold on, how much I push for things to go one way instead of the other, it doesn’t matter because control is the illusion I allow myself to see as real.  I think it is the only way my mind can comprehend what is happening in my life, the fact that I am going to die soon and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

*sigh, pause, slurp some coffee, look back at the computer screen through teary eyes*

I’ll say again, I am going to die soon and there is nothing I can do about it.  Being angry is at least something, right?  Even if it is the wrong thing?

Keep Me

I look in the mirror and all I see

Is the once beautiful young girl I used to be

My body was healthy, my mind was strong

And life was good when nothing was wrong

As I grew up it came to pass

The once young girl would surely not last

As my health starts to crumble, and life a continued rush

It seems way too early to return to dust

But this is my fate, my destiny

The woman in the mirror staring back at me

She is older and weak, and her skin is so light

Her body has finally decided to take flight

It grows old and weak, undeniably not strong

I just can’t accept it – all this is wrong

The sickness and pain that haunts me at night

Has now joined me in all of daylight

I can feel it coming, the slow start of death

I dont want to go, please, please keep me…

Please keep me, alive.

Is this it?  Did it work?

Hi!  If you happen to be looking for my sandwich story, try this..if it doesn’t work I will make it right and repost sometime Sunday (tomorrow) evening.🤣🤣🤣

Here’s the link to the file:!AnEVvnF6ObbdiV__0B9nf15kOEdC

Shared from Word for Android

Today…Unlike Any Other. Dammit.

“Suddenly, I realized I am not immortal, I am human, and that just plain sucks.”

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?  Yeah, I don’t know either and would typically balk at anyone who asked.  But…today.  Well, today was different.  I woke up and felt…grateful, sad, angry…almost rebellious.

Wait.  Do you know?  Have I written about this before?  The answer is a resounding “No!”

When I started this website the intent was to put useful bits of information out there and show how they – whether we want them to or not – are incorporated into our everyday lives.  It was a positive “blog”; frankly, I really had no desire for it to be anything but a sounding board when I needed to show off or let off steam, and I certainly didn’t intend that anyone would be interested enough to actually read it. But now…I think not.  I think now, it is quite different.  Everything is different.  So.  You don’t know.  Bwa- ha- ha- ha- ha.  Well, let’s get you up to speed, eh?!

One year ago, (oddly) to the exact day, I was diagnosed with stage IV adenocarcinoma of the small bowel with Metz to the ovaries, uterus, and omentum.  I am forty-six years old with a three-year-old hanging around my neck most of the time and two grown children in their mid-twenties.  I was given 6-9 months to live with a 5% chance of making it three years.  That day was certainly one for the record books (for me anyway)!  Yesterday I was told the Metz had further invaded my sacred body and decided to settle down all nice and snug into my lungs.  New prognosis?  Three to six more months, maybe, and “get your shit together, Cindy.”  Today I woke up and suddenly, being conscious was a very difficult choice.  Suddenly my entire world looked and felt different.  Suddenly, I realized I am not immortal, I am human, and that just plain sucks.

So I did not do much, did not talk to anyone, did not go anywhere, cannot recall what I watched on television for hours and hours, cannot recall what I thought about – if anything at all – today just…did not exist.  I flipped the computer on this evening and felt guilty for not following through with this site (a big stressor for the triple type A personality I have taken 46-years to perfect), saw the word of the day, so to speak, and decided to write you a little note about the word “suddenly“.  Yesterday it meant one thing, today it has taken on an entirely different meaning, and I am waiting to wake up tomorrow and every day after that until all of this is not so…sudden.

Talk soon, I promise. – Cin