October 7, 2011

"did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day and head back to the milky way" - Train

(grabbed from Karlo)

Radio-silence. An entire month of radio-silence. My absence from writing can be attributed to the events that have transpired over the past few weeks. It’s not because I’ve been sick bad enough that I couldn’t write, nor is it because I’ve nothing to write about. In fact, there are a gazillion things that I have got to share. You can only imagine how fast my fingers are typing at this very moment, eager to put all the words that are overflowing from my puny brain. Prepare yourself for a lengthy entry.

They say, if you're a sincere blogger, you'd write just about everything; every emotion, every thought: the good, the bad, the happy, the sad. But life can sometimes be too overwhelming to be put in words; too depressing to even be shared. Sometimes, the best way to speak your mind, is to be perfectly still, and not say a word. Last month was quite a struggle for me, my family and everything in between. It was like being trapped in a jar, helpless and utterly breathless, not knowing if you’re ever going to get out of it. But God, and His omnipotence, gave me peace that transcends all understanding. My family eventually managed to overcome the struggle and learned a few valuable lessons along the way.

I’m finally done with the ruthless and merciless chemotherapy. I can now brush it aside and laugh at the memory of it. A total of 16 sessions in a span of 8 months; 225 days to be exact. I celebrated it with pizza, puke and even more puke. Forgive me for my lack of a better word, but I don’t want to sugarcoat anything so everyone knows exactly what I mean. Chemotherapy was no easy ride. I sure am glad I can put it behind me.

Moving on, I also celebrated my 27th birthday about a week ago. For weeks building up to the exact date I have been confused and constantly thinking of ideas on how to celebrate life, while I was still struggling with surviving it. Finally I made an exciting decision to spend my day with friends at an orphanage. It was even better than I’d imagined! It was a joy to see the innocent toddlers’ messy faces eating spaghetti, cupcakes and icecream. When you make other people happy, their joy becomes a sort of mirror and reflects a smile on your face. You forget your own worries and become infected with laughter.

One other exciting event worthy of some air-time is the day I met my soulmate. No, this isn’t some romantic story or a fairy-tale-like adventure. This is about me meeting a stranger one lovely afternoon over a cup of chai tea latte. Her name is Jurace. She’s 27 years old and she also has cancer. We both share the same diagnosis: Hodgkin’s Lymphoma stage 2. And we both share the same fate: chemotherapy and radiotherapy. We are likewise of the same age, and are both the 2nd daughter of 3, with both female siblings. It was hair-raising when we realized that we had very similar stories as we continued to talk about our experiences, our likes and our dislikes. She comes from the far side of the country and traveled all the way here to receive her treatment. I prefer to think that she came all the way here to meet me.  She is still halfway on her chemotherapy and I can already see that she can come out of it strong and victorious. It was comforting to meet someone who can truly relate to what I’ve been through. And it is as equally challenging to be able to support her in more ways than one as she continues on in her treatment.

This is me and Jurace. I have not been wearing a wig for 3 weeks now simply because I already have tiny new hair growing. It’s unnerving the way everyone’s head turns when getting a glimpse of me but slowly I am becoming more oblivious to their stare.