Farewell Manifesto

Life is a series of ebs and flows, exhilarating at one moment and disparaging the other. A scattered array of experiences which are in essence the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day, composing our life picture. Some strokes are dark and broad while others are detailed and vibrant but all are artful.  

I sometimes question how human suffering has become a taboo topic, not unlike global warming where our awareness is overshadowed by our insecurity in facing an unsolvable problem. We know that life is fragile; beyond what we inflict on ourselves, we’re at the mercy of our environment and our biology which at times seem to be at odds with our spirit. This platform was a way for me to reconcile the conflict, to reach within my soul and describe the emotional carnage that was reaving havoc that was perhaps more devastating than the physical. Within my life I have had limited opportunities to make lasting impressions, to pierce the surface facade that people present and appeal directly to their humanity. As you know, I seized this opportunity…

I often struggle with what I envisioned to be the closing memo to this chapter, my farewell manifesto, if you will. I write to you from a place of privilege, of grace and ambiguity where I try to derive purpose from life lessons and here is what I’ve learned:

The reality of living is that our time is finite yet many of us are naive to this truth until our rude awakening. This realization turned my world upside down while expecting my first child and diagnosed with an acute blood cancer at 28. Nothing could have prepared me for the whirlwind of emotion that I felt during that time, forcing me to question my reality, my formula for life and my faith. We’re always one moment away from a completely different life, one result or decision away from abandoning our plan. 1 Blood test changed my world and initiated a barrage of testing, extensive systemic therapy and 2 stem cell transplants that quite literally rebooted my body. I very quickly became a patient statistic, living in short sprints day after day, keeping my mind on what seemed to be a moving target. I recognize that my story is my own and while I’ve often considered deleting this site, I am choosing to leave it intact and hope that someone reading it will feel inspired to hope, to imagine a light at the end of the tunnel.

Like many immunocompromised patients, COVID has been an extension of my isolation, actually an opportunity to level set with friends that were now forced to take precautions that I have had to assume for years. While we can all agree that we’re tired of COVID, it is important to remember that while the pandemic normalized and introduced mainstream preventative measures, they have existed long before and undoubtedly after COVID19.

I choose not to be defined by my afflictions, to rise beyond my fear and self-doubt and affirm that I am enough, I am not broken and that I can make a difference. While I often grapple with the “why”, the truth is that it doesn’t matter. I am here, I am present and I will be my best self, in spite of my detour. While this has been one of life’s greatest challenges, the most difficult admission of my life is that, in spite of the trauma, the terror and the impact that this has had on my family, in many ways it has pushed me to evolve. While this is not the path that I would wish upon anyone, I recognize that without it, I may be less empathetic, less awake and certainly less appreciative of life.

Cancer does not discriminate, it permeates through fortune, fame, gender and geography. Though it may not hit home for you, it has been a tenant in mine and many others remembering that 1/2 Canadians are expected to be diagnosed wth cancer in their lifetime.

4 years, 41 posts and 2 years after my second transplant, I hope that if nothing else, I was heard and that I narrated the untold story of so many.

I remind myself that life is a journey, not a destination and while we’re often challenged with what seems to be insurmountable odds, we continue to put one foot in front of the other because we can. 

We live.  

The Hopeful Motif