Book - draft - Part 1

And then they all rejoiced in unison, singing their sweet praises, creating a soft hum that filled my lungs, my heart and my soul with the realization that it was going to be okay, that everything was going to be just fine. The blinding white silk that lay against the angels sculpted bodies made me feel warm and unconsciously sleepy. I knew then that I must be dreaming. There was nothing okay about chemotherapy. My journey with this disease would last long past this books birth and my eventual re-birth. I knew I would never find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and despite my tears for knowing I would never indulge in this occasion I wept tears of joy too. I was alive. Thank God I was alive.

How it started. I clearly remember his face. The first boy I had a major crush on. He had warm brown eyes, eye lashes that collided with one another that created a thick blanket, and, well, crooked teeth. But the last part didn’t bother me. He introduced me to a foreign world, one I had never even touched let alone held. I never had a boy interested in me, more importantly I had never had feelings for somebody that I could not understand, tame or appreciate. Looking back it only lasted as long as a minute does when washing your mouth out with Listerine; most likely the longest minute you have ever been apart of, but in retrospect it was only a minute. Well, this “minute” was the beginning of the rest of my life.

He was poised and never dramatic. His voice was matter of fact as well as his body language, this much I remember from our first conversation. That and one of the many side effects he talked about. “Taking the high levels of prednisone and chemotherapy you are at higher risk of becoming sterile, unable to have children of your own.” Nothing is processed mentally, physically or emotionally in your first hour of darkness. My shock was quickly interrupted by a Superman strength that would take over for years to come.

He broke up with me. Yes, and it was quite dramatic. It was made official on the night of my 19th birthday, drink in hand and a slammed door in my face. “You know everyone thinks you’re Nuts.” Looking back bursts of laughter come from my belly, a deep true laugh, but at the time his impression of me, his attitude towards me, his actions against me, were devastating, truly heartbreaking. The months to follow were grueling. A cloud of depression loomed over my head, and any time I shrank away from the pain and the devastation, I was clearly reminded of my reality; F’s in every single class, 16 pounds lighter, old friend’s long gone and new friends puzzled by my drastic turn towards the “dark side.”

I remember being six years old waiting for my mother to stop bargaining with the cashier on the price of okra’s. Vista was one of my favorite grocery stores but only because it was right next to an ice cream shop and of course I got to see Christina. Looking back I don’t believe I knew her name. It was a made up name that I assigned to her. She had long blonde hair that was a bit static, beautiful baby blue eyes and the hottest pink fake nails this side of the Mississippi. I loved her. I did not know her but I loved her dearly.

The Journey of Alaskan Salmon

And like the fish swimming upstream, beating itself fiercely against the the rocky path, against the current, bleeding on its way to its destination... you too will venture on your own journey, fighting against the path of great resistance. The path you chose. But you must always remember that the best journey's are the ones that bring you home.