"Well, I declare!"
July 26th marks one year since learning I had cancer. I only knowingly had it for about eight weeks, and it was taken care of swiftly and expertly. After surgery, I was and still am completely fine. It happened. It’s over. I’ve been mentally aware of the anniversary coming and have gotten out ahead of it with rational, reality-based mantras to remind me that I’m okay and that even when I wasn’t, things eventually turned out to be okay thanks to medical science, a grand support system, and old fashioned good juju. Despite all that, my neck went rogue for a few days, completely seizing up with a vigor previously unseen. “Your poor neck is stuck. Your hippy friend says to send it love.” Michelle always has things like this to say. I’ve had issues with my neck since a 1996 car accident, but this particular seize was in a different spot and had an intensity that could only be described as a stress response. It was so stiff, a warning sign through bars. I acknowledged it and