It’s Been Rough

This was originally going to be a “professional” blog with posts showcasing my skills and the professional stuff about which I am a total geek. Then I got sick.

The sickness turned out to be uterine cancer. I went through surgeries and chemotherapy. I blogged about it at a protected blog because someone was stalking and harassing my husband and me at the time. Eventually, all seemed to be getting better. My hair started to grow back. I started to find my footing again.

Then my beloved, amazing, strong, wonderful dad, Michael Meissner, died from a sudden and unexpected heart attack. My world fell apart again.

I started to cope with my grief and make plans for a delayed honeymoon (my husband and I got married between cycles 1 and 2 of chemo in 2015). I saw Hamilton (amazing!). I thought I’d regain my footing yet again. I decided I would live as much as I could and try to not give into fear.

It’s scary to be open about one’s personal life. There are fears that it’ll make me seem “unprofessional” or “unreliable” to reveal the physical and emotional bullets that have hurtled through my life in the past two years.

If we wanted writers who were 100% free of physical and emotional bulletholes, who had no scars that sometimes pulled and hurt, we’d have robots do our writing. We wouldn’t work with and embrace human beings. Hiding humanity behind a veneer of “professionalism” doesn’t do anyone any good. So I’m combining them. I’m a professional who is damn good at her job and, screw ego, really skilled. I’m also a human being, doing the best that she can and believing that honesty helps everyone.

Screw the stories of cancer patients being kickass warrior women who run Ironman marathons. That’s not what you’ll find in me. I think I have strength and I think I have courage, but it’s the normal kind that does sometimes just curl up with an old stuffed panda and a good novel to escape from reality and feed my creativity.

 

3 thoughts on “It’s Been Rough

  1. You are my favorite kind of heroine. Real, open, compassionate, and brave. So very, very brave. But not in that “I’m a superhero who will conquer anything,” kind of way. You’re brave in your authenticity. You’re strong, but you don’t hide your vulnerabilities. Or pretend you don’t have any. You face life with humor, but don’t use it to cover your pain or your fear. You amaze me and I’m proud to be your friend.

    1. Michelle, thank you. You are far too kind, but I’ll try to believe you. I’m so proud and glad that you’re my friend, too.

  2. What Michelle said. Sometimes too many of these “I fought cancer and ran a 50 zillion mile marathon!” stories isn’t what the doctor ordered.

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