Dear Cancer,
You can kiss my ass. Yup. Said it. ASS. We have met before. Too many times, in fact. We were introduced through family, through friends, acquaintances and even strangers. I am writing to you today, as I have done before. Remember when I told you to KISS MY BUTT ? Errrh, well now I am swearing, and saying ASS. I am feeling a bit more bold. Take that, Cancer…. And kiss it. Stick it where the sun don’t shine.
More importantly, I am here to now officially say to you Cancer ~ You kissed it. In the countless stories I have heard about you, it is so refreshing to share a positive one. A story of a guy named Michael Knowlton (my hubby) and how he has fought you like a chemo marathoner. And won. He won big. Like the lottery, but only better.
I would even go so far as to say that he looked you in the face * Cancer * ….and gave you the big fat middle finger.
Then he drop kicked you when you weren’t looking.
If you had a face * CANCER * he punched it. Right square between the eyes.
He knocked you so far back into another century, that your Cancer clothes are outta style.
If the world was flat, he threw you * CANCER * right off of it.
For me personally….CANCER is the one thing, the one disease, where I throw all my punches. I flail my arms like a big sissy and take a big flying girly swing. A girl has to do, what a girl has to do….And damn it, I never wanna miss.
I’m not gonna lie.
I have lived a life surrounded by Cancer. Haven’t most of us? Don’t be freaked out at this moment, and run out the back door.
I tried it, and it doesn’t work.
Like many of you, I have had a front row seat to watching Cancer.
They might even be box seats.
Seats with premium views, and double buttered popcorn.
For those of you who know our family personally, I must confess that I have been feeling sorta guilty. No blog posts of late on Cancer. I have been having such a hoot blogging about design, travels, and inspiration, that I didn’t even bother to blog about the life in between.
My bad.
Too bad, so sad.
My fault, your problem :)
I would like to promise that I will blog more about Cancer updates but that would be a big fat juicy lie. I have a packed schedule of ’de-Christmas-fying’ around here. Shuffling away Santa stuff ( yes, still !!! don’t bug me), and finding things that I threw in the closets during the holiday season. If you open a closet door here, I am sure that something would come flying out and attack you.
Ok, truth…because I promised I wouldn’t lie to you…I am heading to PARIS again soon and I am spending all my time trying to dream up words in French again. Hellooooo French is hard enough to learn, and it’s an even bigger Bi*tch to remember. Old age sinking in. Like the Titanic. The icing on the cake of old age is the need for reading glasses too….Gaaaahreat…What’s next ? Dentures?! If I get dentures some day, I am going to stud them with diamonds and maybe a gold tooth. Just for kicks.
Ok, I promised the scoop on Michael so here it is…
There was time when Michael was so sick, he required TWO blood transfusions. His slow-growing Cancer suddenly kicked into high gear. It revved its engine and took off like a bat outta hell. He was literally yellow. Almost green like Kermit the Frog. Without the cute frog accent. His blood counts were dangerously low. He had night sweats that looked like a floating lake on his chest. With waves. Big water waves. He was sleeping like a dog on a hot summers night. Couldn’t drag his butt outta bed ~ unless we hollered “dinner!!”. He lost weight.
His bone marrow was infiltrated with 75% of Cancer.
Noooo kidding. Freaky, right ?!
Remember….don’t run out the back door, it doesn’t work.
Chemotherapy walked in our front door. It looked him right in the face. We decided at that moment that Chemotherapy is not poison, it is LOVE JUICE. It is the healing potion. Believe me, I know what an oxymoron that sounds like. Lived it ( by watching it), been there, got the freakin’ poster.
He has had 7 monthly rounds of chemotherapy, and a week of steroids in between. No he does not look like the incredible hulk. Maybe the green part occasionally, but that is where it ends. He does look FABULOUS though, and he has been fighting the cancer fight like a fine tuned athlete. He is fighting a cancer that occurs ONE IN A MILLION.
He is one rare dude.
This is where I must share something so incredibly awesome with you. It will knock your socks off. Michael has worked closely with Mahan Khalsa and the team at Ninety Five 5 for years and years. These guys at Ninety Five 5 are top drawer guys. World Class. Back of the Bus. The Best of the Best. The Cream of the Crop. You get my drift. Don’t make me gush any more.
I want to share a clip with you from Mahan Khalsa about Peak Performance. Michael, in his work life and in his battle against cancer has been fighting the fight of a world-class athlete. A peak performer. Watch this video and watch how the guys of Ninety Five 5 roll…teaching others to find their peak performance.
Wow, Huh ???!! I lurve those boys at Ninety Five 5. Especially the one I am married to. And so do a lot of other people. Like thousands. And Millions. No joke. This company Rocks out Loud when it comes to teaching others on how to Help their Clients Succeed. They are the real deal. The big enchilada.
So the big scoop of Michael’s Peak Performance in his fight against Cancer is that his chemo should end in one month.
{ this is where you jump up and down and throw things all over the room in excitement }
Never mind if anyone is looking.
I do it all the time. It is fine. Do the Happy Dance !
He is looking ahead to starting back to work again. He will have the chance to share his story and continue his incredible work with Ninety Five 5 as the great Sales Leader that he is. He is a world-class facilitator, and if I get the chance to stand in the room and watch him tell his story…
It may be the best day of my life.
In the big picture, for the next two years, he will do chemotherapy every three months. He may continue this style of maintenance Chemotherapy for up to 5 years. Yup 5 years. That sounds a pinch daunting.. 5 years more of chemo ~but then again, the way I see it…at least the daisies will be growing under his feet.
I like that better than the alternative.
So rather than think HOLY SH*T….2 to 5 more years of chemo ??!!!! whaaaat ?? I think….
We have him. We have him here.
That is something to celebrate.
And it reminded me….
*
WE CAN SURVIVE
*
WE CAN-CER VIVE.
Do Epic Shit, because it Matters.
