If you know me, you know I'm emotional. Always have been, always will be.
I cried a lot during chemotherapy. It was usually late at night, in my room, alone.
Well, tonight I watched Grease Live, which was really good. They added a live audience, who also acted as extras, and it really helped with the overall feel of the broadcast. When it came time to the last song and the curtain call, I started crying. It first started when I saw the performers dancing, bowing, and mouthing "hi mom and dad!" I just lost it. I'm a total cry baby. But I thought I would blog about it, because I think by blogging, it will help me understand WHY I was so emotional at the end of the show.
I think it has a lot to do with my memories of high school and being in the musicals. Grease Live made me reminisce about those good (and sometimes bad) times in my life and how so much has changed since then. I miss those days a lot sometimes.
I've had my moments, but I don't remember being this sad so often before chemotherapy started. Things were going along... I moved in with my parents after college, then was living with my boyfriend (now husband), going to grad school,....then I had cancer. It set me back a bit. I moved back in with my parents over the weekends so I could get a treatment close to their home. My parents never let me go and I never let them go and once the cancer hit, I really couldn't let go. And I'm having a hard time doing that now. I moved out of my parents' home (my stuff is still there though), I'm married, I have a full-time job (that I'm not entirely happy about at the moment)- I am in a huge transition period in my life. I'm scared, all the time, of this transition. I was extremely sad that our wedding was over and having to jump into a new job right after the wedding was stressful. So much changed in such a short amount of time. It's time to give my parents the guest room they really want. But it is hard. This transition makes me sad all the time, and I think that the Grease Live broadcast really reminded me of that. I'm not in high school anymore. It's time to grow up and start a new chapter of life.
The other reason I think I was crying at the end of the show....well, it could be that I am jealous of those actors. I've always wanted to be on Broadway, because it seems like so much fun. Hard work, but fun. And they are amazing singers and dancers! I'll never be that good. I think seeing all of them excited and happy together, enjoying each other's company, makes me long for those relationships, too. I'm not very happy with my job...or career. Life as a school-based speech therapist is so overwhelming. I think seeing those actors laughing and singing made me realize how much I want to live a happy life. I love being with and helping my students, but man, this job (and any school-based job) is nuts! The first year is always the hardest, but I really worry about every year being the hardest. I have a lifetime to worry about CEUs and keeping up with my certification, and writing teacher portfolios, and progress notes, and lesson plans, and IEPs, and meetings. So many of my friends post their adventures on Facebook. My adventures will have to be during summer vacation (a huge benefit to working in schools...). The Grease Live cast had an awesome adventure tonight. I want that.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Monday, January 18, 2016
Survivor's Guilt
So much time has passed.
I came on today to reflect on the sad news of recent celebrity deaths due to cancer. Ever since I was diagnosed with cancer (over two years ago), I have felt a connection to others who have been diagnosed- especially celebrities. It started when I was watching the TV show Dexter late at night and found out that Michael C. Hall had Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I was going through chemotherapy treatments at that time. For Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I just can't explain why I felt so strongly connected to that actor. When I had the opportunity to meet him after a Broadway show, I shook his hand, shared my story, and thanked him for inspiring me to continue on and fight strong. I had never met him before then, but a strong connection with him in that moment. Cancer is the link.
In the first few weeks of January 2016, there have been so many deaths from cancer. The celebrity deaths get the most attention, of course. David Bowie was first. A few days later was Alan Rickman. I heard of their deaths early in the day, during my drive to work. Alan Rickman's death really hit me hard, because my sister and I had just finished watching all eight of the Harry Potter movies over winter break. And oh yes, I cried over Snape's scenes, too. Hearing it in the car, I teared up a bit. Reading an hour later that it was from cancer- I lost it at work. I mourned alone in my classroom for at least half an hour. I mourned later on in the day, too, as I told a friend how I was feeling.
Prior to these deaths, I read an article about "survivor's guilt," which is essentially feeling guilty after surviving a major life event while others did/do not survive. In my case, it was cancer. I suppose I feel this way often, although I don't often reflect on it. My oncologist and surgeon told me early on in my diagnosis that I had a "best cancer" and that it was very curable. Through treatments, I did feel "guilty" at times for having the cancer I did, because I knew that thousands of others had it "worse" than I did. Well, I know that no cancer is the "best cancer" to get; it still hurts, it still changes your life, it still is something I wouldn't want anyone to go through.
Survivor's guilt hit me after hearing of Alan Rickman's death. I am shocked that we can't cure cancer yet, or prolong the lives of all people battling all types of cancer. Or that some of the most prolific people in this world, who have access to the best medicine, still lose their lives to cancer. This is why I will continue to fundraise for the LLS, until we no longer need to.
I came on today to reflect on the sad news of recent celebrity deaths due to cancer. Ever since I was diagnosed with cancer (over two years ago), I have felt a connection to others who have been diagnosed- especially celebrities. It started when I was watching the TV show Dexter late at night and found out that Michael C. Hall had Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I was going through chemotherapy treatments at that time. For Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I just can't explain why I felt so strongly connected to that actor. When I had the opportunity to meet him after a Broadway show, I shook his hand, shared my story, and thanked him for inspiring me to continue on and fight strong. I had never met him before then, but a strong connection with him in that moment. Cancer is the link.
In the first few weeks of January 2016, there have been so many deaths from cancer. The celebrity deaths get the most attention, of course. David Bowie was first. A few days later was Alan Rickman. I heard of their deaths early in the day, during my drive to work. Alan Rickman's death really hit me hard, because my sister and I had just finished watching all eight of the Harry Potter movies over winter break. And oh yes, I cried over Snape's scenes, too. Hearing it in the car, I teared up a bit. Reading an hour later that it was from cancer- I lost it at work. I mourned alone in my classroom for at least half an hour. I mourned later on in the day, too, as I told a friend how I was feeling.
Prior to these deaths, I read an article about "survivor's guilt," which is essentially feeling guilty after surviving a major life event while others did/do not survive. In my case, it was cancer. I suppose I feel this way often, although I don't often reflect on it. My oncologist and surgeon told me early on in my diagnosis that I had a "best cancer" and that it was very curable. Through treatments, I did feel "guilty" at times for having the cancer I did, because I knew that thousands of others had it "worse" than I did. Well, I know that no cancer is the "best cancer" to get; it still hurts, it still changes your life, it still is something I wouldn't want anyone to go through.
Survivor's guilt hit me after hearing of Alan Rickman's death. I am shocked that we can't cure cancer yet, or prolong the lives of all people battling all types of cancer. Or that some of the most prolific people in this world, who have access to the best medicine, still lose their lives to cancer. This is why I will continue to fundraise for the LLS, until we no longer need to.
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