Years ago I wanted to give my house a name and since I had several cats, Catnip Cottage seemed appropriate.  I even planned to paint a sign but procrastination reared its ugly head and now many years later my house remains unchristened.  I must remember to put that on my ever-increasing to do list. 

I keep several lists.  One is for things that need to be done right away such as shopping for groceries and personal or cleaning products.  Another may be a reminder to make appointments for a dental exam, mammogram, cervical exam or the dreaded colonoscopy.  I think I make this list just so I can put off making the appointments.  If it’s on the list it makes me feel like I can wait to do it.  Come to think of it isn’t that what most lists are for?  If you just take care of the issue when it comes up, there’s no need to write it down. 

I even started a bucket list.  After last year, I felt a certain amount of urgency to do things that were previously in the “someday” category.  The odds of beating ovarian cancer are not the greatest and even though I am in remission right now, I can’t really be sure how much time I have left.  I know what you’re thinking.  Nobody knows; you could get hit by a bus tomorrow.  That’s true enough.  The difference is I feel like my bus may be parked around the corner.

I don’t mean to sound morbid; I am dealing with cold hard statistics.  I had to accept the information and figure out how to go forward without letting it overwhelm me.  It’s all about living in the present.  The tired cliché about taking it one day at a time holds the truth about living a happier more centered life.  I spent too much time regretting the past and worrying about the future.  I expected so much from the future; more money, more love, more time.  I didn’t know cancer was looming there.

But believe it or not, cancer is not all bad.  Early on I told my surgeon that along with the disease I had received gifts.  First of all I found clarity.  I learned quickly what I value most in life is family, friends and the time to enjoy them.  I learned how much I am loved and how many people were willing to stand by me for however long it took me to beat this disease.  I learned not to judge the people who found it difficult to see me or even talk to me on the phone.  It’s not easy to watch as someone you care about suffers.  People told me I was brave.  I have to admit I was a little surprised with the amount of inner strength and determination I was able to summon which helped me persevere through the rigorous treatment.   I don’t think I was brave.  Like so many other victims of this disease, I had no other choice; I wanted to live.   I had to face each day, each procedure, and each humiliation in order to get well.  I wanted to live more than anything I have ever wanted in my life.

Finally, there are times when life seems so bad you have to laugh.  I joked about losing my dignity.  I feel like most of my family and friends have seen my posterior.  I once walked down the hospital hallway with my gown pulled up in front by the wires from a heart monitor and the back barely covering my tush.  I didn’t care.  A nurse came and pulled my gown together as she walked beside me.  She urged me to go back to my room so she could put another gown to cover my backside.  I told her I wanted to keep walking.  Another nurse glanced toward my bare legs; I told her I was starting a new style.  One morning as a young aid gave me a sponge bath she asked me to spread my legs.  I hadn’t felt so exposed since I was in labor thirty years before.  I won’t even get into all the indignities surrounding bathroom mishaps.   My weight which had been one of my most closely guarded secrets was now common knowledge.  Okay so I may not have laughed when these things happened but I did while recounting them.