I didn’t make it to the concert, as predicted.  None of my husband’s coworkers were interested in taking the tickets in exchange for a fair amount of crappy beer.  Half of them had never heard of Weezer, and the other half?

“Oh, yeah.  My Dad listens to Weezer!”

We’re just a couple of old lame-ass mofos.

We watched 3 separate live shows on TV.  Weezer, panic at the disco, and Andrew McMahon, since they were on the lineup .  Andrew McMahon was the longest, because it was a combo documentary and cancer benefit concert.

He talked about being diagnosed with leukemia in his early 20’s, and a couple of things struck me.

1) He discussed how he was warned in great detail about what his body would be going through during treatment and recovery, but not once did they mention what it would do to his mind.

Anyone with a lengthy illness can relate to this.  I suffer greatly physically, but the effect that it has on my mental health is far greater.  Feeling out of control, hopeless, and that your body is trying like hell to kill you.  It’s not pretty.

2) He eventually got to the point where he was beginning to shed the skin of his experience with cancer, which is to say he went into remission and could begin living his life again.  He gained the perspectives only a person on the cusp of death could have.

So what happens to those of us who will never experience true remission?  When our good days mean we may actually be able to be on our feet for an hour, or not be planted in the hospital?  Cancer can do one of two things; it’ll fuck off, or it’ll kill you.  It might take a while either way, but things are guaranteed to change.

I’m not saying this to be insensitive.  I’ve known quite a few people who have battled cancer and some who have lost.  There are residual effects from chemo and radiation.  The idea that someone is 100% after kicking cancer is not the message I’m trying to send.  Only that I wish my illnesses were as black and white as cancer – that they’d follow a predictable pattern.  That some day, I can start living my life the way I want without settling for what my body dictates.

I want remission.

11 thoughts on “Remission

  1. I guess I’ve never really thought about remission for an injury. It’s not like I can go back in time. I never thought my pain would get better either, I just hoped for more and better relief. But then, reality got in the way. In other news, how’s your lizard? (No, not your husband.) 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

  2. It’s a huge and frustrating gap in medical support, and the dichotomy between mental and physical health doesn’t help. I have no words of wisdom here. Sorry. Just keep writing about it. I’ll read and understand.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hollah to all that! I’m still looking for a vacant island (that hasn’t been nuked recently) so we can piss off there and do remission! … Looking, looking …

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I get it. The greatest thing that ever happened to me is that they found the brain tumor. They like it when they can identify and treat something. Before that, I had a lot of interconnected, difficult-to-find crap and pain. I got diagnosed with Fibro at a time they still figured Fibro = crazy, hypochondriac girl.
    And as far as the clarity, I’ve been on the edge, I know what he means. I think you might have a spoonfull of that in there too! 😉

    Liked by 2 people

  5. You are a very strong person, from my experience not many people can handle listening about traumatic experiences such as being diagnosed with cancer! Be proud of yourself!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Remission, yah, that’s a good thing. A day when you dare to eat like a mentsch and actually digest like a mentsch! What a treat. A day…dare I say it, even…without pain! Oh goddess, what would we do with all that energy! (NOT piles of man stench laundry 👹)

    But remission has its own special Sword of Damocles, because when you’re in remission, you never know when the other “R” word–relapse–is going to gob-smack you.

    So what I want for you, babe, and for everybody here who’s going through it, is really truly CURE. Yeah, OK, that’s a long shot, but it’s what I want for you. Big hugs and kisses XOXOX

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Honestly, I’ve felt this way too. I always shy away from talking about it because I think it comes off as insensitive or like I’m asking to have something more “serious…” but sometimes I feel like I’d rather have the defined results of better vs death than the shitstorm that comes with just not knowing much other than I’ll never get better. Sometimes it’s hard to tell whats worse the physical or mental effects of chronic illness or if its both combined that make it so hard. Who knows.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I’m right there with ya. I can totally relate to what you’re saying. I’ve said the same……………………..where’s my remission???????? My world is all some kind of fucked up because of all these damn physical, chronic, illnesses………………………….chronic illness rules my life, literally. I’m working really hard to get a grip and get some control over some of this shit wreaking havoc on me………………………………………I’m getting real tired, though……………………………it’s exhausting to live this way, and then be constantly trying to just figure it the fuck out!!!! I hope you get your REMISSION, SOON!!!!! PEACE OUT!

    Liked by 1 person

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