sudden storm
A good friend of mine just received word, the bad word — the “Big C” word. She was treated for a different kind of cancer (the little c), and now she’s got another kind of cancer. And the suckitude just ramped up, up, way the fuck UP.
As I am not the friend that will fill your heads with calming platitudes during a time of grief, I am also not the friend to be all Pollyanna about getting news like this — making bold assumptions that all will be well, putting big glops of magical thinking over the heaps of fear.
Apparently I’m the angry friend. What the FUCK, cancer? This is entirely unacceptable, cruel, weird, and scary. Hasn’t she been through enough? What does this all mean?
What does this all mean, indeed. Well, practically, it means that treatment starts anew, and that we all hold our breaths until the summer when a test tells us what to feel next.
Anyway. This friend reads this blog. Hi, friend. I love you.
And here’s my magical thinking — I am hoping and praying and wishing SO HARD for you right now. I am imagining and manifesting and visualizing. I am scared but not running, angry but not giving up. Stupid disease. I’m coming for you. Asshole.
You are right. It is not logical to go directly to the good thoughts of everything is going to be OK mode. You can be terrified. You can be totally fucking pissed off. Whatever gets those positivity juices flowing and vibing so damn hard in their direction (or as you say: imagining and manifesting and visualizing). Your friend is lucky to have such a good friend to help in this fight.
Fight the power! (no, seriously. Do it! Cancer sucks!)