when i was deep in the throes of chemo, i spent most of my nights wide awake. not much has changed about that. but when i was in treatment, i would spend those nights awake, online shopping. also not something that has changed at all either. but one night wide awake due to the steroids and the infections and the swells of depression, i bought a bracelet. one of the many that dangle from my left wrist every single day. it says ‘whatever is meant for you, will not pass by you’. i love this quote so much. so much that i saved the little card that comes attached to the bracelet and it’s hanging above my desk. and right now, the universe and i are not on speaking terms. nope. bye. talk to the hand. and i mean, let’s face it- my relationship with the universe has been rocky for a while now. and today just felt like someone let all the air out of my balloon. which was already losing helium on the regular. today, the universe took a jab at me and popped the whole damn thing. and when i hung up the phone with my surgeon’s office, my throat was already filled with sobs. because the universe just doesn’t like me. for whatever reason. it aches to think that maybe this is just how it is from now on. but i spent the better part of the morning crying into my hands at my desk. heaving sobs. my heart just full of shame and anger. the surgery cancelled. my body left to look like this for a while longer. and i just kept silently asking the universe why. kept begging for a reason. dying to know what is keeping me from what is meant for me. what is meant for you will not pass you by. so how did we get here universe? in yet another moment that shatters me open. another snag in the fabric of my life that i have been stitching together. just another thing gone awry.
and it plummets me into this place. a place where all i want to do is shutter the world and crawl into my bed. to hide from what the universe has decided is best for me, without even asking me. and sometimes i feel like a broken record; asking the universe to slow down. to give me a break. to allow me to pause for just a minute between big moments. and tonight, i fell into my own trap. i held myself in tears and just cried for hours. it feels like i will always be ugly. it feels like this will always be it. that the body that was once mine will now always be this jagged, post cancer mess. and i know, i know- i shouldn’t say that. believe me. i know. but the reality is that i don’t connect with this. we aren’t synchronized. my scars don’t make me feel like a warrior. they don’t remind me of winning the war. they make me cry. they make me look away. they remind me that i am lost right now. and this surgery, it was a piece of the puzzle. it was a deadline. it was a finish line. it was my hope. hoping that it would push me into a place where my body and heart and mind could all safely gather for a moment. where i could look in the mirror and smile. because right now, it’s just bitterness that consumes me. bitter that my body doesn’t look the way it should. that it’s ugly. that if i can’t love it, how can anyone else? and believe me when i say that i know how awful that sounds to others. but it’s my reality. and right now, the universe just seems to be pulling away what’s meant for me. and i am screaming for the universe to let it be. but it’s not working. and so here i am, at four in the morning, wanting to be in a surgical gown. but instead, i am wide awake trying to figure out what is meant for me.
because survivorship is already a lonely place. and that’s not a subtle dig at anyone. it’s just the truth. i can be surrounded by hundreds and still feel alone in survivorship sometimes. and that’s because the healing is slow. and isn’t linear. each day is different and some are messier than others. but right now, it’s a mess. i am this girl, who has been through so much, with a body that has been altered and chiseled at. and it’s unfinished and it doesn’t look the way it should feel. it doesn’t match victory. it reminds me that this still isn’t over. that two years of my life has gone by, fighting for my existence. and what is meant for me will not pass me. right? tell me if that’s not true so i can take the scotch tape off of it hanging above my desk. so what’s meant for me then? that’s my new universe question. and i know how crazy i probably sound; acting like the universe and i are real people out here, having a chat. but it’s true. it feels like what’s meant for me actually does keep whizzing right past. and maybe what’s meant for me is different than what i think is meant for me. it’s very possible that the universe didn’t get my memo. but regardless, lately things have been feeling a little enormous. the irony of that sentence. and last night as i was waiting in my front yard barefoot for an ambulance for my mother, i looked up and just shouted “are you fucking kidding me?” to literally no one but also literally everyone. because it’s feeling like the walls are kinda caving in. like everything that’s happening is just one boulder down the hill after another. and at the same time, there’s a voice there whispering “whatever is meant for you, will not pass you”. and i keep throwing my hands up. kinda like one of my favorite emojis. like hellooooo, is anyone there? that shit literally keeps passing me. are you subtly suggesting that it will make a u turn at some point? because that sounds great but, when?
patience. i know, i know. heard ya the first eighty five times you said it. but this ain’t it. it really isn’t. life after a major medical crisis is supposed to be down time. it’s supposed to bring me fresh air and room to breathe. enough space for me to grow through what i have been through. it isn’t supposed to rain here. it isn’t supposed to be dark here. it isn’t supposed to be filled with more pain and anger and heartache. it’s supposed to be sunny here. where healing can happen; without anything halting it or altering it. and my world kinda tilted a little more this week. the angles the universe tried were not my favorite. i was spun in this new direction. with more doctor appointments and new medications. a new series of what ifs. another diagnosis to tackle and make sense of. another thing that cancer leaves in its path of destruction. and of course the sun pokes through the clouds every once in awhile. and there are calm moments. but they get swept down the storm drain. and right now, i am waiting for whatever is meant for me. alright, yeah, probably not as patiently as i should be but i also feel like whatever is meant for me, should be here by now. i have been doing the hard things. it’s been hard for a long time and i feel like it’s supposed to be my turn. for a break in the action. for a moment to heal. for some brain space away from medical trauma and the pain it causes. but it appears that the universe has other plans. and i know deep down that right now, the universe is asking me to wait. to hang in there. and that everything that has happened and continues to happen is part of some greater plan. and at this point, there really isn’t anything i haven’t been through. and life continues to chuck lemons at me- sometimes when i am looking and sometimes they just blindly whack me in the head. and while the whole making lemonade thing is cool and all; sometimes ya girl wants something else to drink. but i know, i know- life. lemonade. keep doing it. whatever is meant for me, will not pass me. lemme tell ya- it better not pass me. i will chase after it. but at this moment, my fuel tank is a little low. from all the nonsense that the universe keeps dishing out. and every day i keep reminding myself to take today as it comes. to take the lemons one slice at a time. whatever is meant for me, it has passed me. many times. but it’ll come back around. and i will be ready for it when the universe allows.
whatever is meant for me will not pass me. because what is meant for me right now, is here right now. and even though it’s yet another medical mountain in the midst of a pandemic, it’s meant for me. and everything else that was meant for me, has prepared me to climb it like it’s everest.
let’s do this. xo.