The Cancer Card

My friend Jenny was here with me for 10 days from L.A. She's leaving today. Probably getting on the plane right now. Old friends.  You can't live without them.

I've been seeing my closest childhood friends much more because of this stupid disease. They have stuck to me like glue. They've made my life feel so full. Normally we see each other so rarely.  We live all over the place, we have little ones and we have careers. When we plan a trip together, I would stress because I knew how much my heart would hurt at having to say goodbye again. Isn't that silly? But it's true. I felt that again, this morning when Jenny left. But I know she's snug in her seat with lots of good movies and Pret sandwiches to eat, aaaannnnnndddddd, because of this stupid disease, I know she plans to come back to London again...I'm grateful.

And tomorrow, Allison flies in to be with me. For two weeks! And then Susanne comes and then Kaethe. These women are no joke. They act with full hearts.

And how about all this attention I'm getting because of this stupid disease? When I was well, did I not feel the need to be near my closest friends so intensely?  Or the need to breathe in the scent of my kids' heads so deeply?  Did I not love to lay my head on Andy's chest every night? I know I did. And now, because I'm unwell, I get to have what I want so much more often!  Isn't that interesting? It makes a good case for hypochondria

I know I'm not forcing anyone, but I am definitely inconveniencing everybody. Yet I get to have this closeness that I've always loved, around all the time. It's my favorite thing. A close family is bliss to me, because I didn't have it growing up. And I thrive on close friendships because I did have it growing up. And it saved me, Just hanging out and laughing has incredible healing power. Are there any grown-ups out there whose favorite thing is still hanging out and laughing? Or should I just grow-up right now?  (You don't have to answer that)

One day, maybe a year from now, I'll be a regular civilian again. And I know things will change.  How often will I get to see my childhood friends?  How tight will my kids let me hug them? I know Thank goodness for the dog.

Sickness should never be an identity. But it can weasel its way into your life kind of in the form of the Cancer Card. People say, "Play it!" I've even had people play it for me. We've had some fun with it. But one day,  I look forward to handing in my Cancer Card. I don't know what will replace it in the back pocket of some great new pair of jeans. But I know something will. When I close that door, a beautiful window is bound to open.