Salutations, Much like Steve, I have lost friends to cancer. My cancer. It has been so confronting to so many so called mates and family members. Is there anyone here who has felt as though they have offended someone by mentioning they had or have cancer and noticed the widening chasm? If so, how are you now? Cheers Teach. ... View more

One thing I noticed was how offended people are when you tell them you have a tumour. It is almost as though you have slapped their sensibilities and mortality in the face. You don't intend to offend people, actually I am sorry that they are offended. I am offended too come to think about it. Its very personal having someone tell you that this invasive bit of blob could actually determine the quality of your health and the duration of your life. Once you climb back up after being floored square on your back with your diagnosis you turn around to see the shadow of your life pack their suitcases and walk away. Your so called friends and certain family members - almost as if they have taken their collective cue, retreat into their own sheltered lives, as though you are contagious and limiting contact would mean they would not catch your disease. While you weren't looking, your life changed in so many ways. Ways that were obvious and ways that were not and still, to this very day continue to suprise you. You have a determination that is steel reinforced and with that comes an almighty intolerance for stupidity and all that is shallow and unjust. Your fractured life is like a family photo shattered across your soul with shards of glass falling everywhere, but you know, you will be ok. You know it because your soul says so, it is in every fibre of your being, whether you live, or whether you die. You are and you will be ok. So how do I feel about people? I think we are naked souls in which we wear our bodies like overcoats, exposed underneath, and when we give the occasional flash, sometimes we may be confronted by what is in front of us. So I may be offensive when I tell you I am a survivor of a rare tumour that even the doctors aren't quite sure what to do about. So you plan with dreams and ambitions in mind, but you take it one day at a time. Relationships are no longer defined by title or job descriptions, friends, family, colleagues are judged and embraced by the quality of their soul, their connection and their compassion. So I am walking away, from people, the way I knew them and I am walking into a quality of relationship that is so much better then I could have ever imagined but I am also letting go of the past and forgiving and letting go of people who let me go. I am moving on, most likely offending people with my survivorship, but that's ok - I know what they look like underneath their overcoats. ... View more

Here is an excerpt from Lance Armstrong's Its not about the bike. It is a book that got me through my week of hell, from diagnosis to treatment and this particular 'bit' rang true for me. The reference can be found at the bottom of this blog. “The truth is that cancer was the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know why I got the illness, but it did wonders for me and I wouldn’t wnat to walk away from it. Why would I want to change, even for a day, the most important and shaping event in my life? People die. The truth is so disheartening that at times I can’t bear to articlate it. Why should we go on, you might ask? Why don’t we all just stop and lie down where we are? But there is another truth, too. People live. It’s and equal and opposing truth. People live, and in the most remarkable ways. When I was sick, I saw more beauty and triumph and truth in a single day than I ever did in a bike race – but they were human moments, not miraculous ones. I met a guy in a fraying sweatsuit who turned out to be a brilliant surgeon. I became friends with a harassed and overscheduled nurse named LaTrice, who gave me such care that it could only be the result of the deepest sympathetic affinity. I saw children with no eyelashes or eyebrows, their hair burned away by chemo, who fought with the hearts of Indurains. I still don’t completely understand it. All I can do is tell you what happened.” Excerpt from Lance Armstrong’s “Its not about the Bike.” with Sally Jenkins - Chapter 1, (p.5) Allen & Unwin : 2002 : USA ... View more