Strong. Fighting. Surviving.

She gave me a shell. It was a simple act really. We were walking along the beach and she reached down, picked it up, and handed it to me. She said it was pretty and wanted me to have it. I don’t even think it qualifies as an actual shell. It’s really just a sliver of a shell, but I took it, thanked her, and we finished the walk hand in hand.

I have always been amazed by people who can remember dates. I have a few dates stored in my mind, but I’m usually lucky if I guess the correct decade. To compensate for this shortcoming, I collect souvenirs. I have a small collection of random items that I slip in my pocket whenever the mood strikes me (these are all free, I’m no kleptomaniac). Notable items include a cork from a memorable dinner, a dried flower from my mom’s funeral, and, the newest addition, some kind of strange nut from a walk in the woods. I can look at any one of these items and tell you where it came from and what made that day so special. The shell sliver is now part of collection. I may not be able to always remember the date August 11, 2007, but I’ll always have the shell to remind me of this vacation, this day, and this walk along the beach with my niece.

I am tired. Actually, I am beyond tired. You know, the kind of tired you feel after spending the day at the beach, playing in the surf. I know that when I close my eyes, I’ll still be able to feel the rocking of the waves. I love that feeling. I’m thirteen again and falling asleep after a long day with the family at Virginia Beach. I would spent the entire day in the water, riding the waves, clinging to my rented raft. I loved the thrill of cresting over the wave and having it crash all around me. I may not be thirteen anymore, but I can still play like that girl. The waves tossed me around, stole my sunglasses, and tried to strip off my swimsuit… and I loved every minute of it.

I didn’t realize how much I missed the gym until I missed the gym. That’s chemobrain for ya. I drove past the exit without a second thought. After going around my ass to get to my elbows, I found myself in familar surroundings. While I didn’t see many familiar faces, I wouldn’t expect to after a three month hiatus.

As I was swimming, my thoughts focused on how I should start my blog. Do I take you back to the beginning? To early December, my very first appointment, when I instinctually knew my body was in trouble? Should I start with when I was finally diagnosed and I had my first round of chemo? Or do I fast forward to June when I heard the words ‘partial remission’?

After a few breathless laps, I decided to start with today. I’m a completely different person than I was then and I want you to get to know the current me, not the old me. I don’t think the old me was all that bad, but I would rather spend time with the new me. There will inevitably be references to my pre-cancer life, but my goal is to live in the moment and look forward to the future.

While swimming it occurred to me that no one in the pool knew me or the fact that I had cancer, it was my own little secret. It was so refreshing to be just another face in the crowd. I was merely another human being, eagerly seeking to be healthy and fit. Sometimes I miss being a nobody, being a normal person, with normal problems. Of course, I will never fit into the normal crowd again and, no offense, I don’t want to. I like being part of the cancer crowd. It’s a good crowd to be in. You’ll find that most of us are extremely determined, uncompromising, and yet compassionate and honest. I wasn’t asked if I wanted to join this crowd, but I’m glad I did. I have the unique opportunity to give you a glimpse inside the cancer crowd, who we are and what we want.

Welcome.