Monday, January 9, 2012

Unremarkable me

The best thing anyone has ever said to me is, "Corrie, you are unremarkable". I've been lucky enough to hear this from my oncologist after One PET scan, 2 Sonograms, 9 MRI's, and 11 CT scans. It's been 20 months since I was told how special I was and I can honestly say, I don't miss it at all.
This has been a tough couple of weeks filled with loss, and as happy as I am for my good news, my heart is pulled in a million different directions, none of which are on target for unfettered happiness. I went to visit a friend at Brigham's after my scan. My friend needs people who can walk into her room and say, "This is what's going on and this is how we're going to fix you". What she doesn't need is a gaggle of ego's tripping over their greatness as they walk out of the room. So far, multiple teams seem to think it's ok leaving her with nothing even close to an answer. This shouldn't be folks.
While I was walking off the cancer floor, I heard a woman give rise to the most guttural scream that I have ever heard in my life. That sound could only have been summoned by the instant touch of death in her life. That sound was pain manifest, it was the culmination of how evolution has allowed us to express grief. It was contagious and I instantly started crying for her. I never saw her face, I have no idea who she was, but her raw pain will forever be etched into whatever it is that makes me me.
Seriously people, we humans need to come together and figure this out! Let's stop all the nonsense, get really smart and cure cancer. Who's in?

1 comment:

  1. So happy for you, and I know what you mean about the juxtaposition of personal relief in the pain felt at the treatment center. Tough stuff. But let me say again, I am so happy for you and your family tonight.