What I’m Thankful For – An Immigrant’s Thanksgiving

When I first arrived from the Philippines, I didn’t know what the big deal was about Thanksgiving.  You see, as a Catholic coming from a predominantly Catholic country, Christmas was the only holiday of importance to me.  That, and my birthday, but everybody loves me, so that’s a given….lol!  When I celebrated my first Turkey day, the only thing I could thank for that day was all the food, most especially that big bird.  Who knew they made chicken that huge???  Of course, as years passed by and I have been educated in school about the history of the US, it became clearer to me why the Pilgrims’ journey is very significant in the very existence of the United States.  And yes, it was turkey they served, not chicken!

However, I question myself at times, am I thankful for the same things as the passengers of the Mayflower?  I wasn’t trying to escape religious persecution or tyrannical rule.  Comparatively, my life is better, that’s true, but I’m really too young to realize if we were better off not living in the old country.  If I have to choose between voyaging into the unknown or staying put, I think our lives would not be much affected had we chosen the latter (I dunno….I’ll have to ask my Mom about that).  So, as I celebrate this Thanksgiving, I decided to list some, as I have plenty, of the things I am thankful for as I let you in to the world of this immigrant.

First, and an obvious one, I am thankful for my husband.  I am the epitome of the tantrums of 10 spoiled kids.  I am irrationally stubborn, and everything has to be my way.  To have someone who not only loves me, but puts up with such cantankerous child like me is heaven-sent.  When I hear of my friends and how they have to deal with their sometimes man-child husbands, all I could think about is, “man, it’s the other way around with me and the hubby.” 

Secondly, I’m thankful for my family.  I am very lucky to have the kind of family who will support you through thick and thin, call you on your bullshit when they need to, and love you unconditionally.   I love the fact that we are not enablers and none of us are afraid to tell each other that they are wrong, most especially if they are going down the wrong path.  (If that hits the spot, yes, I’m talking to you!).  Don’t get me wrong, the love never subsides, but for us, it is even more of a mistake to cheer someone on, even if they’re going onto trouble with their suitcases on both hands.  Nevertheless, when that person falls and need a shoulder to cry on, we are always there, not to say I told you so, but just to give them a helping hand.  If you disagree, write your own blog then!

Non-secular friends, you can skip this part. J I am also thankful for God.  Now, before you say it’s because I went to Catholic school, that’s not the reason at all.  As a matter of fact, I think it made me even question my belief more.  The reason why I am thankful to God is during the times when I am hopelessly looking for answers, I prayed and asked for help in pointing me to the right direction.  Now, I didn’t ask for solution to my problems, but I just asked for strength, courage, and some clue of what my choices are.  I remember when I was meditating in the campus chapel at the University of St. Thomas , I was just really asking for guidance on a problem that has been boggling my mind (not willing to share yet).  That same day, I found a reply to my question.  It wasn’t necessarily a solution, but it was definitely an answer.  Many would argue that it could be just a figment of my imagination or that I was desperately trying to believe, but that is not the case.  I would explain further, but not in this blog.

Another thing I’m thankful for is the advancement in Medicine.  As many of you know, I am a cancer survivor.  What I failed to mention is that I had an Aunt who suffered from the same type of cancer, but did not share the same fate as I did.  She lost both legs and had to go through so many rounds of chemo only to lose the battle.  This happened more than 50 years ago.  As I ponder through my experience with cancer, I am really thankful for the researchers out there who are working feverishly to not only better the treatment for cancer, but to find the cure.  As long as we have these scientists who are committed in eradicating cancer, we are one step closer to making cancer history®.

What would I be without my friends?  Although you can count my real friends in two hands, (yes, they’ve doubled since last year J), they are people whom I can count on.  They will listen to me every time I whine about my daily misgivings, tell me when I’m being a baby, and give me the honesty I ask for when the people around me are afraid to tell me the reality of things.  I tend to be strong-willed, and sometimes, I do need that person to ask me that question, “WTF is wrong with you?” 

I am thankful for a job I love.  It is very rare nowadays to hear someone say that they look forward to going to work.  My job gives me the challenge that I need, and the company I work for respects the fact that family comes first.  Of course, there are certain compromises that I have to make, but nothing that would make me want to say, “I quit!”  That’s all I have to say about that because I don’t want them to think I like working…lol!

Lastly, I’m thankful for meeting all kinds of people from different kinds of races with different types of religion (or lack of).  These people have allowed me to be open-minded about their cultures and beliefs and have taught me the very one thing every person should aim to have from anybody – RESPECT.  It doesn’t matter if they believe in what I believe in, nor does it matter if our cultural differences are immense.  Regardless of our differences, they have welcomed me in their lives (and them, in mine) with open arms and have given me a chance to glance on how they see the world.  I may not totally agree with them, but I will always fight for their right to believe in what they believe in. 

Quite frankly, I have so many things to be thankful for that a day’s worth of typing won’t even scratch the surface.  What I do know is that even though I may not have the same reasons as the Pilgrims did when they first landed, so many things have happened and are still happening in my life that this holiday has given me a chance to look back and say, “Yes, I am thankful.” 

So, to all you people out there, Happy Thanksgiving, and once in a while, stop by and reminisce the good things in your life that allow you to say, “I am thankful.”  Oh, and the turkey is not a chicken!

  

Who's Crazier Anyway? An Anniversary Blog

Did you know that I almost didn’t get married?  Yep, I was so flustered and frustrated with everything going on that a couple of days before the wedding I almost called the whole thing off.  I became so upset and felt that I didn’t know who this person I was marrying.  Did I catch him cheating?  No.  Did he physically abuse me?  Hah!  Let’s see him try.  Many people have asked what he did so wrong, but I have kept it all inside me (with the exception of a chosen few) and for the very first time, I am about to divulge the one thing he did that almost made me a runaway bride.  I hope that the heavens above forgive me for what I’m about to reveal.  Here it is.  He…..forgot……to give…..the CD…..to our DJ!  Oh, the horror!

LOL!  Sad as it was, that was the awful truth.  I was ready to call off the wedding because he forgot to do the one thing I had asked him to do the week before we were about to get married.  Petty as it was, the preparation had finally gotten to me at that point and I was a walking time bomb.  Looking back, it really wasn’t a big deal, but in my mind, everything was blown out of proportion and with Cookie Monster forgetting the CD, my head compounded it to “This is not the only time he’d forget something” or, “what else will he forget?”  What about his vows?  Will he forget that too?  To a rational mind, that is the most ridiculous thing one could hear, but to a bride, nothing is far-fetched.

Nonetheless, I’m glad that the cooler, more rational Poch emerged from that situation.  You see, it is not about the wedding, but the marriage.  Throughout the years we’ve been together, Cookie Monster has always been patient with me.  He knew about my whims and craziness even before he asked me to marry him.  Don’t get me wrong, he sometimes loses his cool when I become the two-headed monster (and vice versa….he’s no angel, you know!).  Nonetheless, he has accepted me wholeheartedly for what I am and wouldn’t expect me to change.  Because of that acceptance, I strive to be a better person who much deserves the unconditional love that Cookie Monster gives.  I fail at times, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. 

Now, we are celebrating our 6^th year-anniversary, and we’ve never had a fight (insert sarcasm here)...LOL!  However, between the good and the bad, the ups and the downs, and everything else in between, the one thing I am certain is that I never regret not taking Monsignor Schuster’s advice of running before I take my vows and say “I do.”  We’re still in our honeymoon stage, I’m sure, but I think....no, I'm sure that there is nobody in this world who can tame the craziness inside me other than the one I am married to. 

Happy Anniversary, Charles Thomas Barrett.  I love you.  

On Friendship....Part I (of many parts)

Not too long ago, a friend of mine was defriended by one of our mutual friends on Facebook.  Let’s call them friend D and friend C. Now, most sane people would say, so what? It’s just Facebook.  However, you have to consider two things – one, Facebook has become a vital part of our livelihood, together with Twitter, Google+, etc, and two, the majority of my friends are not sane….lol!  Anyway, friend D got disconnected from friend C’s circle of friends not because she did her wrong or she betrayed her.  Quite frankly, if I’m going to base it on what friend D told me, it was quite mundane.  It was because friend D didn’t report to friend C what one of our other mutual friend was going through and that, although friend C had picked a fight with the mutual friend months before, leading to a public blow out (on Facebook, of course, and yes, I saw it unravel…lol!), friend C felt that she was owed to be told since she is supposedly the closest to the mutual friend.  I’m pretty sure there were more underlying circumstances other than the reason I was told, but at the end of the day, the question that goes through my mind is, if friend C was really interested, why didn’t she contact our mutual friend?

Now, I’m not going to pretend I know what’s going through friend C’s mind.  I’m one of those people who do not ask because it is not in my place to insert myself in a situation unless I was asked to be a part of it.  However, I can’t help but wonder why we feel entitled to other people’s situations?  It is one thing if one of my very good friends come to me and confided about what they’re going through, but it’s a whole different ballgame if I spread their circumstances to the world.  On a personal level, it wouldn’t bother me if people knew about the things I went and have been going through.  The way I look at it, if I really want to keep it a secret, I wouldn’t have told anybody to begin with.  However, not all people are like me.  Most people want their privacy and they will tell the world their circumstances when they are ready to do so.  That day may never come, but it is their prerogative with whom they need to share or not share the information with.

In the scenario mentioned, there are a lot of questions that go through my mind.   However, for the purpose of this topic, the one question that I am trying to fathom is, why did she take it so hard that she was not informed of our mutual friend’s current state?  It would have been easier to understand if I didn’t know about how scathing she could be and that the things that she said made several people guarded with her.  I just really don’t understand why she got angry that she wasn’t one of the first one to know amongst our group of friends.  Why is it very hard for many people to accept that they will not be privy to all kinds of sensitive information all the time?  Have we gone really arrogant that we shudder at the though that not everybody confides in us?

Many of my friends have told me that they feel like they can confide in me all the time.  While that is really flattering, I honestly don’t think that they tell me everything that goes on with their lives, and don’t expect them to.  The only things I offer my friends are my ears for listening, my shoulder to cry on, and my heart for compassion.  In my humble opinion, that is the basic foundation of friendship. 

So, going back to my story, one, I hope friend D will not get angry for me telling the situation.  Friend C has defriended me as well, so I’m pretty sure this will just add to the things that she’s angry about with me (I honestly don’t know why, and at this point, I’ve given up all hope in trying to understand her).  Nonetheless, the one thing we need to realize is that, our friends don’t owe us anything but friendship and vice versa.  If we cannot accept that, then we’re not really friends to begin with.  

COMPLACENCY

I haven’t blogged in a while for a lot of reasons, but mainly because there really is nothing out there that piqued my interest.  It seems to me that it is still business as usual.  I’ve tried writing stuff about social events, current news and affairs, things that really should matter.  However, at the end of the day, I really don’t want to talk about something that has been hashed and rehashed over and over again.  Up until now.

Recently, I just got a promotion at work.  Of course, it was exciting and all, but that’s not what the topic of this blog is.  As long as I have worked with this company, I have been lucky enough to work with people I have had professional interactions in the past.  It helps, most especially since I wouldn’t have to start new working relationships with people I do not know.  Of the three times I have transferred, I knew at least 2 or 3 people in the group I was transferring into, so there is some sort of comfort zone already.  I figured, I won’t have to deal with new characters and wouldn’t have to size up people again.  Then again, I wouldn’t be a Rosedelian if things happen routinely.  In this case, I was transferred to a whole new ballgame – I have been transferred to work with people I have not even had a chance to say hi to.

So, when I started to work with my new group, I was brought back to that old, jittery feeling of being the new kid in school.  As most of those who personally know me, I have transferred to so many schools that I’m always the new kid in town.  You’d think that I should be used to it by now, but like I said, my prior transfers were very convenient in terms of working with familiar names and faces, it felt as if you were just meeting friends at different times and places.  However, this brand new transfer took me out of the comfort zone that I have been accustomed to.  In short, I became very complacent.

I guess that’s what I’m running my ahead up and about these days – complacency.  Often times, we have gotten so used to our daily routines and familiar surroundings that we tend to take for granted the things that we usually do.  For example, I have become so used to driving around to go places, near or far, that I never really thought about how it would be without a car.  Then, just last Tuesday, my truck finally said, “Eff it, I’m retiring,” and just wouldn’t start.  Even after getting it fixed and spending sizable amount of money to get it running, it has finally decided to die.  So, here I am, at the mercy of people who have cars to drive me around whilst I wait until I can buy another one, feeling as if I’m naked and exposed.  For the first time in a very long time, I feel as if I can’t do a darn thing.  Heck, I didn’t feel as helpless as I do now as when I lost my leg…LOL!

I heard on the radio last week that some people are afraid to divorce their spouses and would rather stay in a loveless marriage because they’re afraid to be alone again.  They figured that it would be easier to stay in a loveless relationship rather than start back from square one and search for the right one.   Even worse, people who are victims of abusive relationship would use their faith, saying that they entered into a marriage of vows – for better or for worse, in sickness and in health….yeah, I know the vows.  I recited them when I get married.  However, I don’t think God had planned for you to stay and die just because of your vows.  I think that using your faith is very easy albeit cowardly reason to use as an excuse.   If you really believe in your faith, then you would remember that Jesus also said, “Love one another as I love you,” which, if I remember my Theology class, is overwrites all the other commandments.  If that person loves you, then they wouldn’t hurt you.  In my humble opinion, people stay in abusive relationships because it would be easier to put up with the punches rather than start all over again.  In short, they became complacent.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying that being complacent is all bad.  I mean, I’m very happy and content to be waking up to my husband’s snoring, and quite frankly, I don’t think I have a good night sleep without it….lol!   However, if we have become so used to things being the same over and over again, then the question I would ask is, what would you do if that complacency is taken away from you? 

The danger of being complacent is that somehow, we have become so accustomed to routines that we react negatively once our comfort zone is disturbed.  In the case of my new work assignment, I have to make sure that I don’t shock the new group I work with my bluntness and humor.  (Yeah, I gave them 2 weeks before I let them taste my humor – and they still like me. WINNING!) In most cases though, people react to changes aggressively that at times, they don’t see how they are in fact, hurting themselves more.  I mean, what if all the vegetables in the world have been forever wiped out and the only abundant food source we have is meat?  How would our vegan friends react to that?  Easy to say you’d rather die, but really, have you really been in a situation when the only thing you can eat is the one thing you say you’d never eat?  I mean, for crying out loud, my husband gives me the stinky eye when I suggest that maybe we should start becoming vegetarians.....lol!

I guess the question going through my head is, what do you do if you’re taken out of your comfort zone?  Do you try to take yourself back to that Zen where everything is just perfect, or do you proactively try to cope and see if you can adjust to the change?  There’s no right or wrong way to go about it, just your way.  Either way you go, it’s always YOUR choice.

Chop Chop

Let me take you back to one morbid day in November.  Thanksgiving was just around the corner, but somehow, there was this girl who just didn’t think there was anything to be thankful for.  She woke up from an already sleepless night, and her husband felt as if he was about to send her to a slaughterhouse.  When she got to the hospital, she checked in, trying to clear her head of what’s about to come to pass.  She tried thinking of work, of vacation, of anything that’ll distract her, but her eyes knew the inevitable is to come.  She was wheeled in the prep room, dreading of what was to come next.  The floodgates burst open and she started to cry.  

Her husband, feeling helpless and desperate, took a deep sigh and said, “You don’t have to go through it.  Just say the word, and we’re out of here.”  The nurse was taking too long, there is still time to bust out of that joint.  She decided to put on her pants, but just as when she was about to zip it, the nurse comes in and started hooking her to the machine.  Two anesthesiologists came in and explain what was about to happen  -- in three seconds after administering the anesthesia, she would go to sleep.  Just before they pumped the drug, she looked at her husband, took a deep breath, kissed him, and said, “I love you, I’ll see you when I wake up.”

It felt like she just took a 10-minute nap, but in fact, she has been in surgery for 4 hours.  When she woke up, she was greeted by a nurse with a sweet, motherly smile.  “How are you feeling,” the nurse asked.  She felt alright, so she just gave a smile and a nod.  She didn’t feel any different.  There was no pain, no tinge, nothing.  Maybe they changed their minds, she thought.  Maybe the doctor decided that it wasn’t worth going through it.  Then again, she’s not one to just go with wishful thinking.  She gathered all the confidence she could muster, looked under the blanket so she could see for herself, and she realized, it was gone.  Her left leg had been amputated.  

She then reassessed her situation.  How does she feel?  What is she thinking?  How the heck is she going to the bathroom now?  Oh, and the boots she just bought before the diagnosis….she’ll be damned if somebody wears that other than her!  Then, she realized that it wasn’t really that bad.  She didn’t feel any differently.  Crazy as it was, she thought that there would be something lacking, something that she’ll always miss.  She felt that she would never be complete, not just physically, ever again.  She started to feel like her old self.  Then, her sister came, all somber and about to cry.  This would be the biggest test the girl would ever face.  Would she cry with her sister ?  Would she be depressed?  The answer would come in a matter of minute.

Her Ate (pronounced ah-teh) stood by her bedside, asking how she was doing.  Alright, she answered.  She wasn’t lying.  Yet, her sister tried so hard not to say much because she was about to flood the whole recovery floor of the hospital.  Desperate, the girl told her sister, “Look under my sheet, Ate.”  Her sister was perturbed.  “What?” “Just look under.  I need you to look at something.”  Ate was getting uncomfortable.  She didn’t want to look because she knew she would not be able to handle it.  But the girl insisted.  “You got to look, because I can’t see it for myself.”  Finally, Ate relented and she lifted the sheet.  Under it, the girl lifted her stump, waved it up and down, and she said, “My leg says hi!”  Her Ate as well as the motherly nurse who witnessed it started laughing.  Her husband came to the room as well, and when they told him what the girl did, he breathed a sigh of relief.  Then, the girl thought to herself, “I’m still here.”

Okay, if you didn’t know who the girl was, that girl was me, and the whole scenario was exactly how the whole day unfolded.   By no means am I making light of how hard it is to be amputated, but all truly, it is not the amputation that burdened my heart.  Nobody wants to ever lose any part of their limbs, and deciding on the amputation was one of the hardest decisions I have had to face thus far.  It is almost as if you were given a choice of punishment, and you will have to choose between getting eaten by an alligator or mangled by a shark.  Either way, it sucks.  

However, looking back, I realized it wasn’t the amputation that bothered me, or the inability to do the things I used to – walk aimlessly, go places as I please, swim, things that I took for granted since I never thought I’d lose my leg.  Oddly enough, I really thought that by losing my leg, I will not be complete at all, as if a part of me will be forever taken away.  I thought that the Pochie that everybody knows will never be the same.  It wasn’t until my sister visited me right after my surgery did I realize that I could be limbless and still be complete.  The amputation did not take my sense of humor.  My convictions are still as stubborn as before the surgery.   I still am conflicted who’s hotter – Orlando Bloom or Eric Bana….hah!  

Some would think it crazy why anyone would think that way.  Heck, I was one of those people who didn’t understand up until my surgery why people think that losing a part of their body would take away their personality.  However, I have since come to the realization that it is not just about the limb, but when your sense of comfort has been disturbed, you start questioning if everything and anything will ever be the same again.   It is very hard to look passed the small picture of losing a limb, many people don’t realize that it is beyond the physical loss that bothers them, but the aftermath.  I guess in my case, it was important for me to know that I would still be me, perverted mind and all.  Luckily, I’m also hardheaded and hate to have anything or anybody tell me what I can and cannot do.  I suppose everybody has their own resolve.

So, I’m a certified amputee.  Heck, I have my two prosthetics to prove it….LOL!  In the end, I am just glad to have realized that I may have lost my limb, but I am still intact.  If anything, it has strengthened my character even more and I really do feel that I can do almost anything.  Besides, I like my reserved parking spot.  :-D

A Love Story

15 years ago, I was asked to go to a Catholic Youth Convention by my high school because, well, they knew I had nothing else better to do.  I went because it meant a credit towards my Religion class, and besides, I had some friends who went to that other school we were going to.  I figured, we were all going to meet there and hang out at Caldor next door, so we wouldn’t really be staying in the school as much.  It was just an ordinary day.

I arrived at the school and saw one of my friends as planned.  However, I keep on forgetting that Big Kahuna, as she’ll be called and I’ll leave it to your imagination why we call her that, was a very active student in that school.  Why I didn’t think she’d be a volunteer in the convention, I had no idea.  So, I talked to BK for a while, and she told me that she met this new girl (whom we are going to call J) and asked me to sit with her. I said, sure, why not. The girls from my school disappeared to see their friends as well, so why not make a new friend, right?  J and I started with the formalities and she was nice, although very……….open when it comes to talking about her personal life.  In the 10 minutes we have spoken, I pretty much knew what kind of guy she was looking for….lol! 

After a while of chitchatting, she asked me the most curious thing in the world.  J told me that she came in with a guy and that he went to the host school as well and maybe I’d like to hang out with them.  She also said that he seemed to be enamored by her, so maybe I could distract him so she “kood mit ah-der pee-pol.”  (Yes, that’s how she said it…ha!) Was this girl serious?  Normally, I would have called her out and tell her she was full of shit, but for some reason, I just said sure, why not. 

Before we could meet the so-called clinger, there was a part in the convention when we had to greet someone we had never met before and asked them for their name and for something about them they’d be willing to share and write the info on this sheet of paper we were given.  Imagine Love Connection – for Catholics….lol!  I’m a people person, so asking people for anything was not going to be a problem, and for the most part, the cuties (yes, I targeted the guys) were very indulging.  As a matter of fact, I remember exchanging phone numbers with some of them.  Then, 5 minutes before the introduction part ended, there was this one guy who not only did not say hi, but just pretty much shoved the paper to my face.  I gave him the look of death, remembered his face, and said to myself, “Son better watch his  back because I’ll be beating his white arse when  I see him outside.”  You don’t do that to a Brooklyn girl….EVAH!  (Yeah, I know we moved to Queens by then, but who cares?  I’ll always be a Brooklyn girl). 

After the introduction session,  I  went to see BK who was now sitting with J and told them about the asshole I just met.  I was fuming and told them that jackass better not show himself to me because I will beat the crap out of him.  It didn’t matter that he was 6 foot tall; his behind was mine.  BK and J were very sympathetic, even agreeing with me  that what that jerk did was uncalled for.  Then, J said, “Oh, there’s my friend.  He’s going to sit with us and I’ll introduce you to him.”  I turned around and who came near our table but that jerk!  OH-EM-GEE!  I gave BK a look and she started laughing.  She then said, “Nah, he’s a good guy.  Trust me.”  Uh-huh.  A while ago, she had my back and now…….hmmm.  Even worse, I agreed to keep this mofo company.  Ugh!  What did I get myself into?

So, asshole was introduced to me.  I still gave  him my “you’re dead” look, but it wasn’t the time for my murderous scheme to materialize.  I had a plan, and if there’s one thing everybody knows about me, it's that I’m devious.  I will get to know what his weakness is, and I will use it to make him suffer….bwahahahah!

I learned that he was already in college(Yeah, hanging out with a bunch of minors, you perv!  I don’t care if you just turned 19.), that he graduated from the host school we were in, that he was taking Accounting as a major, and that he worked in the rectory.  I also learned that his birthday is in September, he can emulate cartoon voices (quite very good, as a matter of fact), and that he is the only child.  He would have loved to have a little brother or sister, but as luck would have it, it wasn’t meant to be.  He is of Irish-Welch descent from Canada, but his parents are from Brooklyn.  He lived in Ridgewood, and he loves to swim.   I have learned so many things about the jerk throughout the night, and when the night was over, I just realized that I have spent the whole time talking to this guy whose demise I was planning.  My plan better work if I spent a whole evening getting to know this absurdly really nice guy, I thought. 

I have to admit though, from what I have learned, this guy seemed to be a really good guy and for the first time that night, I noticed that he has this gorgeous pale blue eyes that radiate both kindheartedness and strength.  He had this thick blonde hair that I could imagine running my fingers through to make him feel relaxed.  His nose is perfectly shaped and his smile is very sincere.  He doesn’t talk in a condescending, cocky way that most guys I’ve met usually do, and he knows how to joke with me without being disrespectful.  He is very chivalrous without forgetting my need to be an independent woman, and he understands how important it is for me to be successful in everything that I do.  When I was mugged and beaten up, he went with one token in hand to the middle-of- nowhere hospital where I was taken to ensure that I was alright, not caring on how he would get home afterwards.  He held my hand while being stitched, and never left until he was sure I was okay.  He gives me support and understanding, even when it meant that what I have to do will take me away from him.  He has never left New York before me, yet he did not have a problem packing up and leaving just to be with me.  Most of all, he accepted me, both the good and the bad, tantrums and all, because, and he said, “Behind that façade is the woman I love.”

So, 15 years after that March evening, I am still planning my devious scheme.  I have lost touch with BK and have never seen J after that year again.  (Side note: I found out that the jerk didn’t even like J….lol!) Some would argue that I probably already have put my plan into action by marrying him, but hey, I told you, I’m evil!  Yet, admittedly, that evening I met the jerk turned out to be the night that I have met my rock, my strength, the one that I love, my husband – Cookie Monster.  This year, we are celebrating our 5-year anniversary as husband and wife.  He always tells me how lucky he is to have found me, but really, the lucky person is me.   Who else would’ve known how to tame a brat like me?

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Fuzzywuzzy aka, Cookie Monster.  I love you.  And yes, your behind will always be mine.  LOL!

What’s so Big About that C Anyway?

2008 started out a great year for me.  I was on the top of my game with work and was being honed to the next step of my career.  Cookie Monster and I decided to start our own family.  We were thinking of buying our own house so that we could actually become a family unit most couples dream of.  And to top it all off, I went to my first ever vacation cruise.  Yep, 2008 started really big and thought that it was going to be the best year of my life.  Or so I thought.

June 2008.  After a supposed routine surgery to remove a benign tumor, that is when my bliss went down the drain.  The surgeon who operated on me was initially optimistic, but after he had done a routine biopsy of the tumor, it turned out that it was malignant.  He sent it twice for testing, but the inevitable still came out – I had cancer.

When Dr. H gave Cookie Monster and me the we-have-to-talk speech, it was a surreal moment.  Of course, in true Pochie form, I was making fun of what he just told me.  When he told me that it is very rare for an orthopedist to make this diagnosis after the surgery, I remember telling him, “Well, of course, it had to be me that you’ll diagnose it with.  I’m special!” and started laughing.  I don’t know who was more scared, him or me.  Truth is, I was actually waiting for him to say afterwards, “Happy April Fool’s!” even though it was June.  I mean, seriously, of all things, Cancer?  Son of a bitch!

The very first thing I did after that visit was call my boss to tell him that the 3-month leave was going to be extended to probably a year.  Of course, he asked me why and had to explain it to him that since I don’t want to go back yet, I had myself diagnosed with osteosarcoma.  I don’t think he liked my joke that much….lol!  I know what you’re thinking – why did I tell my boss first.  You see, you have to understand, for me to start thinking logically, I have to do the most illogical response first.  That way, I can tell myself to snap out of it and start thinking of my next step.  After that conversation, I looked at Cookie Monster and started doing what most people don’t know I’m capable of doing – I started to cry.

Unlike most people afflicted with it,  I didn’t do any research on cancer.  Why should I?  I took enough Science classes to understand what it is.  It is not a laughing matter, I know, but I don’t need to know how it’s going to kill me.  Many people, bless their hearts, started sending me literature and information on what to expect.  Okay, for the first time, I’m going to admit this – I didn’t read any of them, except for one book.  All truly, I didn’t see the need to know that cells in my body started to emulate my character and became independent thinkers on their own….lol!  All I really cared about was how I was gonna look without hair!

I went with my mom and brother half-heartedly to MD Anderson for consultation.  The way I looked at it, I’ll just go to satisfy those around me, but I wasn’t going for the treatment.  If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die my way.  Of course, when I went to see Dr. L, the very first thing she told me was, “The leg is gonna have to go.”  That’s when all hell broke loose.  I told her to go fuck herself and if she really wanted to amputate, then she can go cut her own leg.  Okay, okay….that’s not what I said, but I sure as heck did think it!  I looked at her and said, “I don’t have to lose anything because you’re just consulting with me and if you’re telling me that I’m gonna lose my leg, then I’ll take my chances with it intact.”  That is when she brought in Dr. B.  Apparently, it is a consultation with both surgeon and oncologist, so I have to meet with both of them.  Don’t get me wrong, Dr. L is one of the excellent surgeons in the country, but it probably has been a while since she met a fellow New Yorker, so our characters pretty much clashed.  Dr. B, on the other hand, is very fatherly.  Plus, he probably read me and knew how to get me to do things.  The conversation with him was pretty much a back and forth, clash of the wills kind of thing.  However, the one thing that, up to this day, stuck in my head to make me think things through was when he said, “You have a 70% chance of beating this if you act now.  Why are you being selfish and letting this chance go when most people who are in the last stages of cancer and have zero chance of surviving are more than willing to do what you are not?”  Seriously, how do you answer that?  I still think it’s Divine intervention.  How else does he know that guilt is my biggest weakness?

Even after that conversation with Drs. L and B, I was still hesitant to go through the treatment.  All I could think about are the things that I have yet to do – go on vacation, go on the helicopter training for work, try to have a baby.   Just when I have already made up my mind that I’m not going through it, a little child, a little boy, probably 8 but no older than 10, started running around the cafeteria.  The kid was bald, glowing, and bloated – the look of a chemo patient.  Although he looked tired, he had that smile on his face that you could not wipe.  He was just walking around as if the world is his playground, and not even caring at the people around him giving him the “I’m sorry” look.  This kid, a cancer patient, was taking his storm in stride and giving cancer a kick in the ass.  That’s when the voice inside me asked, “If this kid can do it, what are you so afraid of?  What’s the big deal?”  Right then and there, I decided.

So, it has been a little over two years now since I was diagnosed with bone cancer.  This coming February, it will be two years since my last treatment.  In between, I have gone to Canada, gone back to work, and now, looking forward to what the future brings.  There are a lot of curve balls still being pitched my way, but none as serious as the cancer diagnosis.  Yet, here I am, telling you what my experience with the disease was.   

Sometimes, I hear people call it the Big C.  However, I remember that kid in the cafeteria and ask, what’s so big about cancer anyway?  Mine was just as big as a golf ball.  I may have had cancer, but it didn’t have me.  Even if it returns with a vengeance, then it can go shove itself where the high heavens don’t even want to know where, because I will never allow it to have me.  I will still have the last say on when to say when.