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.