Thursday, November 30, 2006
the cancer void.
today was spring cleaning day at work. our annual audit was complete and it was time to purge old files. as i was gleefully throwing mounds and mounds of AP reports into the trash, i realized that all this work was done in 2002, the year of my cancer. it was such a peculiar feeling. like a time warp opened up. i looked at my handwriting and thought, the girl who wrote this was bald, was missing a breast, was nauseated, was fighting, was tired, was drugged, and was scared. she didn't know it then, but she was beginning her transformation. she was changing from the shy, quiet girl who took things for granted, who worried a lot about the small stuff, and rarely ever took chances. i wanted to go back and tell that girl not to worry. that she was only entering a coccoon. a cancer coccoon. that a few years from now everything would be ok. she would become this crazy butterfly fool that won't shut up, that goes skinny dipping, that drives giant vehicles, that laughs way too loud, and that doesn't pass up potentially awesome experiences, and that gets married and lives happily ever after. it is easy to forget the me i was before my cancer. i blocked out a lot of that time because it was hard. because i was so sick. because it was a horribly shitty time. and because it's so much more fun to be alive now. i have never been as comfortable in my own skin as i am today. even if this skin is scarred. even if some of it isn't in the same place as it was. my old skin has been left behind in the cancer void.
just before the business office trash was taken to it's final resting place, i managed to save these two calculator receipts as mementos. fitting, i think.