Jul 27, 2018 03:16AM - edited Jul 27, 2018 02:54PM by runor
NVDobie, I struggle with that hit by a bus, we are all slated for death, thing. When I have told people about my diagnosis and the year that was sucked out of my life by it all and they wax poetic about how life goes on, we could all get hit by a bus, I seriously want to throat punch them. I can tell you that Before Cancer, thoughts of my own mortality were hypothetical at best. Yeah, death, it happens, whatever, to other people, not me.
I remember not long after the biopsy and diagnosis, sitting in a local coffee shop with Hub, like we have done for years. But this time I looked around like I was from another planet. NOTHING was familiar. I did not feel part of the scene. I felt separated by a thick, glass wall from the way I used to feel , the way life was before. I was pounding and screaming and no one could hear me or see me. I could see them. The thing with cancer is that happy bubble of denial and oblivion that most of us blissfully reside in was torn away. Violently. And, SURPRISE, you're going to die and SURPRISE breast cancer is in the top 5 cancer killers of women and SURPRISE you're not 97 like you thought you'd be when things went sideways and SURPRISE those plans you had of growing old with your husband, well you can SUCK IT honey!
So yes. We can all be hit by a bus tomorrow. Having cancer has not changed my chances of death since my chance of death was 100% the day I was born. It was just the how and when that never played through my mind on a daily loop. And people think that Albatross song is an earworm - wait until you have "I'm going to die of breast cancer sooner than I expected" looping through your head. Ugh.
But then I try and be pragmatic and have a little talk with myself. Well, something was going to get you. What did you think, that you were really going to live forever? No. The fact was that I didn't think about it at all. Now I can't quit thinking about it. (well, I have quit thinking about it so much as more time goes by) I've become ghoulishly creepy because when I hear of someone's Grandparent dropping dead while playing bridge, I think, lucky bastard. Suddenly I am a judge of good deaths and bad deaths. Good death, being struck by lightning while golfing in the rain. Bad death: Cancer!
So yes, we could all get hit by a bus. It's just that some of us see it coming long before it gets here and that, THAT is awful. But I do absolutely understand getting to the point where you have to say, screw it. I'm here, today I am not dying, today I feel okay, I am going to drink coffee and eat a chocolate bar and maybe golf in the rain. I try to wrap my head around the fact that everything has changed, but really, nothing has changed at all. Both are true.
And now, an earworm...