What is The New Normal: Giving Her a Name She Can Not Run From

After receiving a diagnosed of colon cancer, I was told, by fellow cancer survivors, that this experience will change more than just your physical self. They told me that this will be the thing that you will remember on a regular basis. It will be your catalyst for change and your daily motivator. The idea of this thing will hide away in your mind like a stow-a-way on a large slave ship. This shoeless and earthly smelling intruder will seek control of your daily thoughts; however you must resist this urge at all cost. For this transgendered deity, has mastered the art of using his masculine traits saturated in a silent-feminine voice to accomplish his/her goal. She/he answers to no name, for if it is recognized by a name or any audible sound its commanding powers will dissipate.

As I ponder on this proclamation, I am burden with the thought that, my “normal” will never be the same because the bar of normalcy has been moved. The line in the sand that was once visible from the shore has been washed away.  It is like a terminal patient that has abandoned the hope of being “pain free” and now flirts with the wish of not experiencing pain every day. The “pain free” condition is not one that is within his reach anymore instead, the “low hanging fruit” of being “painless” instead of “pain free” is now his new norm. This bi-gendered being has a way of changing an individual’s norms by mentally, physically and emotionally changing who they are. It seeks to replace your healthy cells with damaged ones.

 As my calendar adds more days to this diagnosis, my old self continues to become more and more unrecognizable to me. I have witnessed yesterday’s desires being insignificant and offering little solace for me. I continue to search daily for that stow-a-way knowing that if his identify is revealed, I will become the victor and then I will declare and claim my body as my own property. I must cling to the idea that tests, blood work are not the sum of my body parts; they will not define me. I have tasted the sweet nectar of life and desire more. This has forced me to declare war against any foreign invader that seeks to control my temple. I have found this journey hiding under years of emotional leaves and I will not turn back. I will stand toe to toe and look this transgendered goddess in the eyes and shout her name “Cancer"!!

Flying Solo

            During my undergraduate pursuits, there were always courses that were required and almost all of them demanded a prerequisite. This is a situation that became a life lesson for me; it has been one that I have continued to remember many years later. I would like to think, that these prerequisites were designed to prep students for their next assignment. This was the common thought around the campus, however the reality was that it only created an steady stream of revenue for the institution. I am not naïve enough to think that in some cases it did not actually helped some of the students. I am sure there is some 43 year old restaurant janitor who is happy that prerequisites kept him out of medical school. Really? I think that prerequisites are used by many colleges to identify the serious student from the "I-want-my-refund" learners (pretty much all students).

          Looking back on my life, I have to declare that I have always been a maverick. I have always been a person who has not been afraid to cross social lines. My life has been consumed and fueled by a collection of unfiltered moments. So on many occasions, when I was faced with the dilemma of needing a course, that I had not taken the prerequisite for, I registered for it anyway. After doing this on many occasions, I was shocked by the fact that I was actually permitted to register. This experience solidified for me the idea that "winging it" is one of the best ways to overcome most of life's obstacles. The expression "winging it" means to present a contradictory image while concealing a true identity. In this case I was, by registering for a course without the approved preparation, implying I had the qualifications while ignoring my academic record.
          Years later, I would remember this experience as I sit in my oncologists office. "Do you have a healthy support system, is there someone we can call in case of an emergency," the nurse asked while I was mentally trying to control a reaction my diagnosis was transmitting to me. I knew these were loaded questions and that if I my answer was unacceptable, it would only encourage more probing. It was at this point that I remember feeling like a school child standing in a lunch line without enough money to pay for the meal he had just requested. I felt emotionally trapped, so I did the only thing I could do. I raised my chin, puffed out my chest and lied. It was at this moment that I stood up on the shoulders of hope and love and said, "I do!!", it was also in that moment that I decided how far I would let cancer take me. I knew that this diagnosis would change me and even though I would be forced to physically yield to its demands, I would not allow it to make me helpless. I was a solo flyer and proud of the wings I had earned...