Gratitude

Another milestone approaches, one I’d never thought I’d reach: my fiftieth round of chemo. Honestly, I thought I’d have left cancer well behind me by this point. There’s a small chance I have; there’s many chances I haven’t. I’m choosing a practical optimism at every opportunity I get, but to be honest, it’s difficult to deal with the uncertainty of what this actually means.

The remaining three tumors in my liver (each the size of dice) appear to be largely calcified—like little skeletons buried in the vibrant ecosystem of my liver. I’m so grateful and awed by the ways the body strives to live. And, I’m grateful for medicine, and the ongoing development of new and better tests and therapies. The thought of going off of the treatment that has kept me alive for the last thirty-two months is frightening, while also relieving (two seemingly competing truths existing together). But even to be here is amazing. Even just fifteen years ago, I wouldn’t have had access to the same drugs I have today.

This got me thinking. I looked up causes of death through history. The first thing I saw was that only a century ago almost fifty percent of people died before they were adults. Nowadays, that number is below one percent. Frankly, I’d be dead if I was born a century earlier. I had pneumonia when I was around eight years old. It would have killed me a hundred years ago, and it could have killed me had I not been born in a wealthy country even now. Type 1 diabetes was a miserable death sentence a century ago. It’s frankly amazing that discoveries and innovations, combined with a handful of other close calls, have given me as much life as I have. And this is probably true for nearly half of the people reading this, half of your friends, half of your coworkers, half of the brilliant people making these discoveries.

I have a lot of gratitude these days. It keeps me uplifted and hopeful. It helps me see all beings as caring and giving of their best. It helps me see and feel my place in the web of being. Basically, it helps me just to see so much. I think about being a kid, and writing thank you cards to family members after Christmas gifts were exchanged. It was a simple practice of gratitude that informed my inclination to the practice later in life. And am I ever thankful for that too.

I remember (perhaps inaccurately, but to the best of my knowledge) being part of the health and safety committee at work, and as part of a mental health strategy, we implemented a thank you board in the office. It was largely a success, but concerns were raised that we shouldn’t be thanking people just for doing their jobs. I get where people are coming from with this argument, but I put forth that thanking someone is a rather simple action in comparison to the meaningful effect it can have. And who knows, some people struggle to get out of bed in the morning, how does some recognition change their morning? Others may feel like an imposter, or face any other struggles that plague us in the workplace, how does some appreciation change their work? I think about how differently I show up to conversations when someone simply shows appreciation for the effort I have put into a piece of work, even if my efforts turn out to be misinformed or otherwise shit.

In this spirit of appreciation, I’ll stop with the sappy, self-helpy vibes and say that the best thing these days is my hair. Although there is chemo-induced thinning, there is also chemo-induced curls. After getting over the initial confusion of coping with this newfound mess, I found a style that I adore. I honestly think that this is the first time in my life that I’m genuinely pleased with how my hair looks. It’s a funny fluff on the top of my head, which is perfect for my face shape, looks the perfect amount of androgynous, actually requires very minimal styling, and the curl shampoo and conditioner moisturizes my scalp so no more dry skin flakes! It’s a bit weird to be overjoyed with a hairstyle that was caused by cancer treatment, but there you have it. Thanks chemo!

I’ll leave it there for now. I’ve been changing and learning (and being grateful for my consistently curious self) these last thirty-two months. Perhaps I’ll say more next time. Be well and be grateful!