Chicken Or Egg

One of the perks of being a cancer survivor, aside from actually surviving of course, is the way we all share information.  The second I found out I had really low Vitamin D levels, I emailed my friend Shirley in Hong Kong and asked her to talk to her doctor about the same topic.  After I picked up my script, I mentioned it to another survivor (veteran of two bouts of lymphoma) and she said she also had to take Vitamin D so now I’m pondering the whole chicken versus the egg thing.  Did I have low D first and get then get cancer or was low D a fallout of the chemo and radiation ─ after I got cancer?  The physician’s assistant I got my script from said we’d never know for sure but she stressed we could fix it.  Just a matter of taking mega-doses of the vitamin for the next eight weeks; retesting levels in the blood and then adjusting from there. 

In talking about this fix with a fellow cancer survivor, we sort had a moment to sit back, smile and reflect.  If taking vitamins is what it takes to get our bones and health back on track then, compared to what we’ve been through, we’ve got this. 

We cancer survivors have perspective in droves.  Mountains and mountains; heaps and heaps of big, fat luscious perspective.  Cancer survivors are like the mountain of whipped cream atop the sundae of perspective.  This means that we tend to handle drama with more ease and far less tolerance post cancer.  And we see the big picture like no one else. Every time someone freaks out or goes ballistic over something, we tend to sit back, reflect and have a more moderate reaction and perspective.  I know for myself, this is nearly always true. 

I don’t get upset over things the way I used to.  I only have my ‘wig out moments’ over very few things: bad turbulence when flying and basically anything that threatens or upsets my child or precious grandbaby.  That’s the short list and I intend to keep it that way.

Not much else ruffles my feathers these days. I mean, I don’t fancy the notion of the dog bringing me a dead critter or anything (not that she gets out of bed to indulge in such nonsense anyway) but be that as it may, I’m pretty mellow these days, at least compared to how tightly wound I used to be.  Given how thin my skin used to be and how tightly wrapped I truly was, that’s progress ─ however dearly bought.

This pretty much covers the whole ‘lemons from lemonade’ approach we cancer survivors espouse.