Nicole

This post was going to be all about me, about the twists and turns that come after surviving a terminal diagnosis, but it just didn’t feel right at this ripple in time. Partly because I have scans coming up, partly for other reasons. Mostly because what I really want to do here is talk about someone who picked me up from a support group right after my diagnosis, and she made me hers, she was my shining star in so many ways. So this post is for Nicole.

 I have lost many, too many to count. That’s the double edged sword when you join cancer support groups, you will see so much strength, so much love, and you will lose so many. We lost Marco, we lost Olivia, we lost Cherie, we lost Kathy, we lost Kenny, and I still can’t wrap my tiny head around that. That will be another post. Many of them had more to live for, probably would have done much more with the extra time than I have. Survivors guilt is real, it lives in a giant concrete mixer of PTSD, fear, manic feelings, and a lot of other emotions I’m not even sure I’m ready to acknowledge let alone talk about.

But this is about Nicole. She was my first friend in the world of cancer. She reached out to me from an online support group I had joined when I was totally lost.  Nicole was one year ahead of me in her cancer crap (people like to call it a journey, or a fight, but it’s just crap, it sucks, let me get that out of the way).

I would give you the details of her diagnoses, but lets just say it was very similar to mine. When I met her, treatment was going so well! She was getting ready to marry the love of her life, when she so rudely took the reins and inserted herself in my life, what a dick that Nicole! Wherever she is she is laughing at this. She got married, she was a beauty to behold. She went to Italy. She was super sick from still being on chemo, but she rocked it out, for sure!

She had a rescue dog like me, his name is Mackey, she saw her godson born around the same time I saw mine born. She was so happy to have him. She never wanted kids, same as me,  but when the cancer spread and took that choice from her, it was crushing. A type of crushing not many people know.

I remember when she went on a beach vacation, said Fuck IT! Drank cocktails by the pool and told me “hey, I know we aren’t supposed drink, but terminal cancer, yup, pulling out that cancer card and having a great time.”

She knew it would be one of her last. I last heard from her in mid July, 2013. I was the incurable one, she was the curable one, but I went for surgery on August 26^th, I still hadn’t heard back from her. I entered an almost month long stay at the hospital. I thought about her often, but I knew even though things were looking bad, she would rock it out! That’s what she did. I had multiple surgeries there, sepsis, infections, a colostomy bag, lost a lot of weight but mostly in my boobs which I found very unfair. I couldn’t eat, or sleep or wash my hair without a nurses help. I thought I was dying, but really I had an asshole of a cancer trying to hang on.

Nicole died on September 19^th 2013. I got out of the hospital a few days later. I don’t believe in God, I don’t believe in Heaven or Hell, but I do believe in people. I came very close to dying in that hospital, by way of whatever, but I believe Nicole was there, in some way, even if it was only in my mind. To truly understand this wonderful soul, here are a few excerpts from our chats:

Early on: “Sorry it took me a while to get back (chemo was Tues) blahhh. I used to bartend as well, and loved my job! You will forget about your port before you know it! The damn thing becomes a part if you haha. 

 Anyway, I just dug up my first posting on the colon club if you would like to read it. I just read it again and it still seems so surreal. There were a few people my age that reached out to me early on in my journey that made a world of a difference for me. There is so much to talk about. I would love to be here to support you and answer any questions since I am a year into all this!”

Nicole saved me.

Later on…months later…

“I just had to say I read your blog you just posted on FB and it brought tears to my eyes, because of our similar thoughts. I was actually going to ask you in my last email if you ever felt like you knew deep down that this was coming because I felt that dark cloud off shore as well. Probably for the past three years. One day, I just could not picture myself at an older age anymore and it would freak me out. So then I would get these obsessive fears of dying young, like in a car crash or plane. Never thought cancer though. I would always feel like I was running out of time and would make comments to my coworkers about how work was taking up too much of my time. The list goes on....

One day my best friend asked me if I pictured myself with Jeff forever. I couldn't for some reason, Now I know, oh yeah it's because I'm going to die of cancer:( i even knew when i was diagnosed as a lucky stage 4, the kind that just have a little in the liver and its resectable, good chance fior a cure blah blah....that i was not going to be one of the lucky ones. i never shared this with anyone because i didnt want to hear it came back that i wasn’t positive enough. I was up all last night because of my fear of dying. It's not like that all the time but def prevalent last night.

Sorry for rambling, just had to tell you your blog helped me today:)”

This is what cancer does. It robs us of even our happy momments, because they always feel so fleeting, We hurt people around us because they don’t have that same darkness. The fear that every happy moment, even though we smile, we seem cool as shit, or whatever, well on the inside we are terrified. Nicole got that.

I almost feel like I’m betraying her by sharing her confidential thoughts, she was a private person, but I want to shed some light on the darkness, and I suppose some darkness on the light. Nicole had a gift for expressing her feelings, and in her life on this big planet, she shared them with few, but her words and thoughts, and our friendship is way too valuable to leave in the darkness of my own thoughts. She was smart, and beautiful, and so full of life, and she is missed by so many. I wish she could have met her niece, named after her. She just wanted more time. But like I said, cancer is a real dick, does’t care who you are, what you want, how you believe, it will fight for your body, and it’s a roll of the dice how it turns out. Nicole didn’t even know she was playing and she rolled low numbers, and for that, I will always hold a grudge.

The last message I got from her was this:

“I'm getting by I guess. I have two tumors near my belly button I can physically feel and an upcoming scan so I haven't been the best mentally this week:(

And I have this crazy pelvic type pain but today is a good day. So I go on like you said. I breakdown, I pick myself up, I still hang with friends and trying to plan a few trips:) I understand where Nadir is coming from, cancer is just so scary and unpredictable. I read your blog out loud to my friend who came over today so she can see what gives through my mind. We both cried halfway through, the dog part got me of course haha!!!”

That was the last I ever heard  from her. She ended it with a dog reference and a hahaha.

She also told me once “You aren’t supposed to take Percocet and drink, but fuck it, I’ve got terminal cancer and I’m doing it, and I feel great!”

She is the best and I miss her all the time.