Here we are

“Leukemia” sounds softer to me than “Cancer.” I had already known, personally, two young woman who were diagnosed with one form of Leukemia or another (there are lots of forms of Leukemia) and even though neither of them made it to here today knowing them gave the term Leukemia a less callous feelingthan eight or so years ago when I was newly diagnosed.  Additionally, both of these very young women were beautiful inside and especially on the outside.  Not an inch of feeling sorry for themselves and an openess to exploring a future even in face of maybe not having one.  I know one enjoyed the love of her boyfriend in every way possible (is this too much information? - I'm just telling it like I need to tell it).  Each of them endured painful experimental procedures that I can see the results of today.

 Cancer was a word that went mostly whispered when I was a kid.  In those days, before knowing anyone personally who’d been diagnosed with cancer they seemed to be people who looked sick, thin and pale and often times bald and more likely to die than to live.

On the morning after being diagnosed with my own case of Leukemia my oncologist gave me eight years...over eight years ago.  I haven't been one to put alot of weight on the statistics because my version of the disease is common in older white men not younger brown women.  Most of the people who have had it are nothing like me.  And as my Grandma and my mom have said to me, separately over the years  "Life is change."

 On that December morning post telephone call with the diagnosis I asked  my mom to get me "that Lance Armstrong" book. I didn't get out of bed until a day and I had finished his book with gigantic waves of tears filling my face but somehow, also, a chance at hope.  This guy had cancer and not only LIVED to tell about it, he WON the Tour De France? It was miraculous knowing this before I was member of the club.

As I lurch from one change to the next I give great thanks to those of you who have read my poor grammar and made only friendly fun of me in private. I am not a writer but I have loved this outlet so why stop now? This story ain't over yet.  Amy Winehouse RIP.

You have/can reached  my page at www.teishajune.com