Blessed, Not Brave

Liana Gardner — Sun, 08 Mar 2026 23:52:31 +0000

As I sit down to write this post, the thing going through my mind the most is how blessed I am. That may sound strange in the face of another major life hurdle, but it’s true.

My Blessing Short List

I have a great support network of family and friends that spans the globe, literally.
My besties are a mile away. (huge, HUGE blessing)
Based on one meeting, I’m already comfortable with the new oncologist. In her words, “we don’t have time to fart around with this”, so I have a physician in my corner dedicated to killing off the cancer as quickly as we can.
I was born stubborn. Yes, it can be a negative trait, but when I need to remain determined beyond reason, it is a blessing and comes in handy.

Throughout this journey, I've heard "you're so brave" several times. It always takes me by surprise because I don't feel brave. For me, bravery entails experiencing fear, but facing the circumstances anyway. And while I won't say there isn't a smidgen of fear somewhere deep inside me, I can say that if it is there, it's buried so deep I simply don't feel it. So I don't feel brave or afraid—I'm blessed.

The Why of it

My entire life I've been endlessly fascinated by the "why" of things. So it shouldn't come as any surprise that when the thought about bravery hit me, I wanted to know why … why don't I feel fear even though facing an aggressive cancer? The answer came in a conversation with a friend who apologized for being worried about me.

I have always maintained that I'm lousy at worrying. I keep forgetting to do so, which isn't a bad thing as far as I'm concerned. But I also know how worry affects others, and when I'm the cause of the worry, then I try to help them work through it. I told my friend: In this, I'm the one who doesn't worry. It's so much easier for me, and so hard for everyone else. It has to do with helplessness.

Me? I get to actively attack the cancer and try to burn it, suffocate it, beat it to a pulp, and expel it from my body. No one escapes battle unscathed, but I get to take action. For everyone else, there really isn't anything to do except offer prayers and good vibes. Which is so much harder. I have been on the opposite side of the coin too many times in my life, and I understand the sheer frustration of not being able to help someone else fight their battle.

Fiercely independent for my entire life: if there is something I can do for myself, then I'm going to do it. When that changes, then I might have a few moments where my determination slips, but until then, I'm a warrior.

The Biggest Blessing

Then we come to the biggest reason I don't get too worked up over everything. I have faith. I am in God's hands and have an irrational, but also unshakeable belief that while I may never know the purpose He has in mind, He does have one. And that is enough for me. I don't believe that God would allow me to suffer without a purpose.

In many ways, much like writing, going through chemo is a solo activity. It takes a village to get a book ready for publication, and the cancer village carrying me is full of supporters: doctors, nurses, friends, and family. But I'm the one who has to put the words on the page, and I'm the one who has to go through the chemical cocktail that is designed to kill the rogue cells running around inside me.

Part of the reason I am so certain there is some sort of purpose wrapped up in this is that I still have too much to get done. I only have one book written of a 5-book series. I have one more book to write for a separate series, and several other pending projects. I simply don't have time to mess around with this for too long. And this series is something that needs to be written as a part of my purpose on this revolving marble in the sky.

The Post Image

I had the image for this post generated, and I'm delighted with how it turned out. It shows my determination, ragged cape and all, to chase down those mutant cells. And it makes me laugh. Maybe I should have it made into a poster to hang on the wall for the not-so-great days.

The post Blessed, Not Brave appeared first on Be the Cat.

10 Years of Living with Leukemia

Liana Gardner — Sun, 02 Jul 2023 07:03:06 +0000

This month marks a big milestone … the 10th Anniversary of my leukemia & lymphoma diagnosis. I have decided that this is something to celebrate. After all, I am still here, still fighting, and still no closer to giving up on life—I have far too many things to still accomplish. So I decided I should see what anniversary year it is, and found that it is Tin. Perfect.

What better way to celebrate 10-years than with the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz? After all, getting a cancer diagnosis is a lot like being swept up by a tornado and finding yourself in a strange land after dropping out of the sky. Then, before you can get your bearings and come up with a plan, you're surrounded by all sorts of people offering advice. If only you X or maybe if you Y … all well-meaning and helpful, but notice, NONE of the munchkins traveled the road with Dorothy. They couldn't. And this is not a road I'd wish on anyone else.

Don't worry, I'm not leaving out the Wicked Witch—SHE'S the cancer in this story. So off you go on your journey to find the wizard, aka the magic combination of things to keep you as healthy as possible while living with the disease. You have no idea what's ahead, but have been told of treacherous country and winding, unsafe roads.

My Road:

I thought I'd take a few moments to recap my journey over the last 10 years.

July 2013 during a routine exam, diagnosed with leukemia, which had been caught at the very beginning stages and was told it would be a slow progression disease and I may not need chemo for 10-15 years.
October 2013 further diagnosis based on additional test of lymphoma hiding in the blood stream. Additionally, diagnosed with two sets of abnormalities that make my particular cancers very aggressive. Let's just call them the flying monkeys that swoop in and attack periodically.
November 2013 saw the start of my first set of chemo infusions, which lasted for a 6-month period.
May 2014—Full Remission
April 2016—Remission Ended Begin watchful waiting something I do not do well.
October 2016—My blood values were out of whack, but the oncologist felt we should still watch and wait. So my general state of well-being kept deteriorating, fatigue levels increased, etc.
December 2016—After some difficulty fighting off a skin infection, and identification of some lymphoma nodules, the oncologist determined the cancer was becoming too aggressive, so it was time for treatment again … only this time it was a daily oral pill. WoooHoooo!!!

For everything in life, there seems to be some kind of trade off, and with taking a daily pill, the suppression of the immune system meant that while not having to go through chemo infusions, I did need to have infusions to boost my immune system regularly (about half the year each year)
January 2019—Hospitalized with Scarlet Fever, I had to come off the pill (due to the suppression of the immune system any time there is infection, you have to stop taking it). Since I had been on it for two years and was experiencing several side effects, we decided to keep me off it for awhile.
Remission only lasted 5 months and by October 2019, I was back in the chemo chair for infusions using a different protocol than the first time round.
March 2020—I had finished the chemo, but wound up in the hospital with what the doctors decided was chemo related infections. Let's just say they were awful enough I don't ever want to have to fight those off again.
August 2021—Visible lumps identified and new chemo course ordered … both oral and infusion. While one of the lumps went away as soon as I started the new protocol, the other didn't, so I finished the year off with radiation on top of chemo.
December 2021—Merry Christmas to me. I spent it in the hospital with double pneumonia caused by the chemo protocol.
2022 to present—I've been keeping to myself, taking the oral targeted therapy and holding my own. Though I do have some cysts that are hanging around, they aren't growing and remain stable. So all is good.

Now back to why I'm celebrating this anniversary with the Tin Man. One of the things I've always loved about Baum's work is that those who helped Dorothy find her way had one thing they felt they lacked and wanted to see the wizard so they could gain it once again. The Lion wanted to be brave, the Scarecrow wanted brains, and the Tin Man wanted a heart. But as they journey forward, we see that the Lion IS brave, the Scarecrow IS smart, and the Tin Man had an abundance of love in the heart that in his eyes wasn't there.

For me, the Tin Man represents passion … finding the heart of your desires and keeping it alive. Even the times when he'd get rusted up (from crying over something) resonates with me. I have my passion in my writing work and focusing on that helps me get through my days. Yeah, some days are creaky, where I don't feel well, it hurts to move, and I have no spoons left. But when I write, it takes me away from all of that and keeps me plugging away toward a future when I hope someone will come up with an answer for the beast I live with day in and day out.

So while it may seem a bit odd to celebrate having cancer for 10 years, I'm celebrating the defeat of the Wicked Witch. One day, may she melt FOREVER.

Here's to the next 10 years because I plan to be here to celebrate it when it arrives.