I decided I'm done with long preachy facebook statuses about what I think. I always felt really weird about starting a blog, but I knew I wanted to because there's only so much a girl can deal with after being chucked into the real world for the first time just months after finishing chemotherapy. We'll see what happens.
So. Let's clarify some things. I had Ewings Sarcoma of the pelvis. For those of you nodding as if you know exactly what I'm talking about but actually have no idea, it is a childhood bone cancer. I was diagnosed at age 17 during my senior year of high school. So all of you graduates who are so peeved because your senior picnic got rained out or your heel broke at the prom, I went to the prom with a wig, fake eyelashes, and painted on eyebrows and I still probably looked fiercer than you. Just speaking the truth.
So I spent senior year on the pediatric oncology floor of University Hospital in Syracuse, NY. For those of you saying to yourself "that nice little children's hospital with the Tim Hortons and the Cold Stone Creamery and the private rooms???" Don't get too warm and fuzzy. That hospital wasn't open until my last month of therapy. So the answer is no. I spent 8 of 9 months of treatment on 7H. A disgusting excuse for a pediatric ward. Don't get me wrong, everyone did their best to make things nice for the patients, but it's a difficult thing to do when you have 3 bald kids sharing a small room, falling asleep to the sound of eachother's puking. I hate to be blunt, but then again, I don't really give a shit.
Let us now speed up this depressing process a bit. I had 14 cycles of some of the most aggressive chemotherapy (Vincristine, Cyclophosphamide, Ifosfamide, and Etoposide), and 6 weeks of daily radiation. You're canceled picnic can kiss my ass.
You know you're in trouble when "things could be worse" becomes "you could have aids..." TRUTH.
Fast forward through the treatment, and I am now 3 and a half years in remission. And I'm a musical theater major (I know right? Haven't I been through ENOUGH! Kidding. Kind of) at Point Park University's Conservatory of Performing Arts. And let's just say that my prior dealings have given me a great sense of perspective at school when I find myself in tears because the library doesn't have the original score of Sweet Smell of Success (ONLY THE VOCAL SELECTIONS! WTF!)
There are a lot of young adults who struggle with cancer, and we are the most neglected demographic of cancer survivors as far as research and awareness. Children with cancer appear constantly on TV commercials. We all know a great too many adults who fought cancer. But how many 18 yearold cancer patients do you hear about? How many 21 yearolds do you know who have a wig collection of 10 or more (ONE MORE AS OF NOW!!! THIS KIDDDDDD). Unfortunately, there are SO MANY. Young adults represent approximately 72,000 diagnoses of cancer each year. But you would never know it, as we are not often brought to media attention.
But I don't want this blog to be just about cancer and awareness and yada yada yada. So many people I meet are intrigued by what has happened to me, and I have the overwhelming need inside me to speak candidly about not only my experience, but how I see everything and deal with life now. I'm extremely blunt about what I went through and my way of dealing with it was a) Be a total bitch to everyone around me so it was literally impossible for them to feel sorry for me and b) Make as many jokes or wise-ass remarks about it as possible. So if you're offended by my crooked, sometimes morbid remarks, this blog is not for you. I try not to be offensive. Sometimes I can be. I just think it's hilarious that people think diet coke gives you cancer and that by talking to sick people in a quiet, whisper-y voice you are somehow doing them a great favor.
Eh. We'll see how this goes.
PS>>>Put your damn sunblock on and STOP DOING BATH SALTS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.