Evolution and Escape

Jive Turkey is evolving. This blog is no longer just about a trip. It's about life. It's about my life. And it's about living.

As it turns out, Tommy Tumor (see previous post) has an entourage.  "What are you? A celebrity?" my sister would say, whilst laughing her head off at the amount of accessories I wear-- excuse me for loving scarves, requiring shades because I have light eyes and needing a hat because it's cold, matches my outfit or I didn't brush my hair (typically the latter).  To which I reply yes. She fails to understand how interfering it would be if we had to CONSTANTLY deal with the paparazzi. But I digress. The point I'm making is my cancer is a part of me, be it a warped, mutated part of me, and I'm sure it's just as high maintenance. So Tommy's entourage is posted up in my liver. All 6 of them.

The biopsy confirmed I have cancer. Followed by a meeting with my oncologist who explained aside from pancreas-inhabiting Tommy, there are 6 more tumors in my liver. They remain unnamed as of this posting but I'm definitely open to suggestions. Perhaps they'll adopt Turkish names. The looming question is what to do about all these tumors. Operating is one option which could remove some/most of the tumors but would it leave me enough of a liver? If not then we're looking at a liver transplant (excuse me, WHAT?! This was harder to digest than the cancer diagnosis). And of course, we mustn't forget, chemotherapy.  Oh Life, you crazy, untamed beast. As my mother would say, "What are we going to do with you?" Mom, I believe we're now even for all the times you came to my rescue in every way one can imagine because you got a mention in the blog.

As a direct result, my perspective has changed.  A lot.  Here is what I know: I'm incredibly loved. L-O-V-E-D. The love surrounding me is palpable. I'm encompassed by a dense force that holds me upright and makes my heart swell. Everyone asks what they can do and they always say to call if I need anything. I won't but that's not because I didn't receive your directive. I'm just the suffer in silence type.

How are my diagnosis and the trip connected? I have the unique opportunity to escape.  I get to take a break from life and enjoy an amazing experience. I don't think many people in my shoes get to do the same. They have to face cancer and life. I get to forget about cancer and live. But shouldn't I be home getting better??? No. I should be right where I am, which according to the tv on the back of this chair is 34,999 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. My doc gave me the okay to check out of life for awhile since my tumors are slow growing and all my symptoms are contained. Doctor, you're my favorite person. Watch out for mom though, you didn't say what she wanted to hear. She took it pretty well, the guy is still walking around... as far as I know....

The original first sentence of this paragraph was: Airports suck.  But since I'm pretty sure everyone already knows that I'm changing it to: I have gotten over my fear of flying.  Much better beginning! It's positive and a bit awe inspiring considering 5 years ago I wouldn't even go near a plane.  I'm currently typing the draft of this post on a plane, on an iPad (if I mention Apple products AND have the same cancer as Steve Jobs I might get hooked up!) while time traveling in a pressurized tube hurtling through space. Am I the only one who thinks this is unnatural? Aside from the fact-- emphasis on fact-- that nothing goes right at the airport before flying, flying is a really weird thing.  I guess I've overcome my fear by learning how it works (physics aka things way over my head) and in order to get anywhere cool you HAVE to fly. Crisis averted, flying is now my favorite thing right behind lime sparkling water. Perrier Lime Sparkling Water (another mention- let the freebies pour in!)