The Page At The Very Beginning....

The very first page of my blog had a picture of the banana trees that I had growing in my yard in 2008. The care of them requires that you dig them up and bring them inside for the winter - otherwise, since they are comprised of a lot of water, they will freeze and die. Ironically, in 2008, I dug them up and brought them inside the day before I was diagnosed. I remember it well. I remember that I didn't feel very well and then I remember struggling with them to bring them in (if they are over 4 feet tall, they are pretty heavy).

Last year, I brought them inside the day I received the news that my scans showed I was cancer free and that I could start resuming all "normal" activities. This year, I brought them in tonight - the 2 year "anniversary" of my first bone marrow biopsy. The picture above shows the shovel I used to dig them up and it is sitting in the hole of one of the banana trees that is now "wintering" in my utility room.

Funny how those anniversaries, memories and connections to occasions work out.

I've mentioned recently about how conversations among cancer patients go and how I have struggled with what is the right thing to say. I've had the opportunity lately to speak as a Patient Honoree for the local chapter of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. When I speak, I watch the faces in the crowd and how they react to me. It covers the spectrum. Although I am tempted to "cut loose" with my version of the events, I can tell by the faces that I have to learn to meet the crowd I am talking to where they are emotionally with the cancer thing. Some people may have experienced a recent loss of a friend or family member and it is still fresh in their mind, and painful as a result. They may be there seeking an outlet for their grief and want to honor their friend or family member by raising funds for research. That's awesome of them to do that.

Also in the crowd are former patients who experienced treatments, etc. much more difficult than mine. One thing I do say at every opportunity is that I don't consider myself a survivor. As I have mentioned before, I am using the term "Aliver." When I present that concept, it's pretty cool to watch the look go across the faces in the crowd. Afterwards, usually it's the former cancer patients that will come up to me and tell me that they like the new term. I ask them to continue using it and most of all, continue to live it. Last night, one of the former patients, who is running in a marathon in Vancouver sometime next year, told me she was going to put it on her t-shirt. I like it.

The point of this is not to self promote, but to show people what hope is and what it can do. It's about meeting people where they are and then bringing them to where they can be. I've experienced that from all of my caregivers in the past. 

It's a good habit to want to establish for oneself. It's one that I aspire to and have a long way to go. But I think it's a good goal on which to focus. 

Even large institutions that are focused on the mission of compassion, care and acceptance struggle with it. 

"Let us have but one end in view, the welfare of humanity; and let us put aside all selfishness in consideration of language, nationality, or religion."

(John Comenius,17th century philosopher)