Last night I held my head in my hands agonizing over, “decisions, decisions, decisions” because that’s what every cancer patient is faced with; where to go, what doctor to work with, who’s telling the truth, what treatment seems right, etc. And then I remembered a bit of advice someone once imparted, “You never have to make a decision provided you do the research. When you do the research, decisions make themselves.” It’s simple! However…

Research entails hours of looking at different websites, reading doctor reviews, examining statistics, deciphering science papers; basically becoming a scholar on one’s own particular type of cancer. Final personal decisions are often made through intuition, practicality and trust. Because I am a pragmatic semi-intellectual, I must admit I sometimes have a hard time finding my own intuition and trusting it. 

Friends help. I gravitate toward suggestions from people who have had success using treatments that uphold a quality of life. That’s my main gauge and those friends, new and old, are out there. And then there are friends who offer to wash dishes, vacuum, drive me to an appointment, weed the garden, make phone calls on my behalf, and/or visit in person or by phone. These simple gestures, pure in love and giving, are golden.

Just yesterday, I spent an hour on the phone with the insurance company making sure all my lab tests and doctor referrals would be covered. It was exhausting and left me with little energy to do the procedures I need to do at home on a daily basis just to stay comfortable. I had to set up a power-of-attorney with the names of persons in my family just so they could call for me. Afterwards I remembered how, when I was young, any family member could intervene on your behalf and talk with a doctor without all this brouhaha, but that is no longer. 

There are so many standard, alternative and integrative avenues to conquer cancer these days it’s astounding. So much to sift through. I am easily drained, if for example, someone tells me a horrific story of their personal cancer journey or someone tells me that they know someone who died from my same cancer even after treatment, or someone goes on about their day with incidences that in the past would be a joy to hear but now seem trivial. People are just trying to connect and help, and I do appreciate it.

“We all have our trials, but when you have cancer, you see the world differently,” said a cancer survivor friend of mine and I knew just what he was talking about. 

Today, I look at the sky more often than I once did. I wonder what’s up there. Is it heaven? Is it God? Are my relatives and friends who have passed waiting for me? Am I going there soon or am I staying here? Will someone greet me or am I just an energetic being whose vibration will someday merge with the clouds? 

When I breathe, I take in more than just air. I take in its fragrance filled with summer heat, rain, flora and fauna. I am grateful just to breathe. I am grateful to have two legs to walk on (not everyone does), grateful to have two eyes that see even though imperfectly, grateful to be able to sit up and continue writing my column. I am grateful to our community; supportive and encouraging, and filled with love and concern.

“You must have something to live for,” advises another cancer survivor friend. Of course, there are the small things; continuing to garden, writing my memoir, Yarnslingers and more. But most of all, I have my family to live for; I’d like to see my daughter’s wedding if she ever marries, grandchildren if she has any, and I’d simply like to grow old with my dear husband.

RAMONA JAN is the Founder and Director of Yarnslingers, a storytelling group that tells tales both fantastic and true. She is also the roving historian for Callicoon, NY and is often seen giving tours around town. You can email her at callicoonwalkingtours@gmail.com.