Thursday, April 12, 2012


Day 12 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge — stream of consciousness day. I have been directed to "just write, don't stop, don't edit." Here goes.

I'm not sure I understand people's reactions when they find out you have a life-threatening illness. Why does this news cause so many people to retreat like turtles?

Sticking your head in the sand is a handy trick, I have mastered it (and it has served me) well, but don't I get a free pass to stick my head in the sand? After all, I'm the one left dealing with this whole mess.

The folks surrounding me, resting on branches far and near, can slip back into their "before" lives while I — I must live in my "after" life.

Maybe this is just how it goes. We all, at some time or another, must deal with issues that threaten our lives and our way of life. Maybe I'm just like them. Maybe I'm no different. Maybe they are the normal ones. Maybe their behavior is appropriate. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe none of it matters at all. Maybe I over think it. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

(Copyright TheBigCandMe 2012)
Cancer is a shakedown. If you grab hold of an orange tree and shake real hard, you're gonna loose a lot of fruit. I feel like an orange rolling around in the dusty grass, lodged up against a tree trunk. (Between a rock and a hard place, so to speak.) Some days I feel like the orange in the back, left to rot. Other days I'm the bright and shiny fruit shouting "pick me, pick me!" 

I'm not still on the tree. But I like to imagine what it would be like to be back on the tree: To be plump and perfect, juicy and sweet, unblemished, waiting in anticipation for what lies ahead. I used to be that fruit. Used to feel bright, shiny and new. This cancer sh*t, it's bad for the tree and its bad for me. Like real harsh weather, brutal heat or too much rain — cancer literally beats the life out of you.

But blogging... somehow, blogging makes it all better. (Maybe not all, but some; I'll take some better. I'll take mo' better.) Gotta give the orange a voice. It has plenty to say, even when it's rolling around beneath the tree. Pick it up, wash it off — voila, like new! (Who knew?)

It's not so bad. Smells good.

Orange you glad?


  1. What a wonderful stream of consciousness post :-) I particularly love the line about "Cancer is a shakedown." never heard of it referred to that way..but yep, it sure is!

  2. love this flow renn
    great expression...
    you could write more Stream of C and i would love it too,
    no one knows the personal journey of someone else,
    thats why we write and share and learn and understand...

    those of us around you just need to hear this, we might not even do anything about it...
    we just need to listen...
    we just need to hear you.
    thanks so much,

  3. @Marie, thanks! Yes, Cancerland is Shakedown Town! (Hmmm... that could be another blog post...)

    @AN: I think we all should have a blog, makes understanding each other so much easier! (Not that I don't already understand you, but you know what I mean!) xo

  4. I love this, Renn. The imagery of the orange for cancer is perfect, since it can rot, be blemished, be squeezed, be shaken off its mooring, etc. I AM glad. Thanks! xx

  5. Amazing blog... I understand the need to have a voice in difficult times:)

  6. Ha, retreat like turtles indeed. Great analogy. Why do we humans slow down to look at an accident scene involving strangers but run the other direction when someone we know has a life threatening diagnosis?

  7. @Dee: The is the question of the hour, the day, the year, the eternity! Thank you for sharing.

  8. @LettersFromLunna: I finally found my voice — and now I can't shut it up! LOL!! I appreciate your stopping by.


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