Clip my lush blond to the root and strip away my self-identity with all its egoic glory. Like Hell Week with its mental anguish and physical punishment, I am undergoing an initiation of sorts–
This one will make or break me.
I thought I had it until those damn CT scans showed the cancer growing instead of regressing. That has been one bitch of a mental obstacle with a massive mud pit on the other side.
Then the Coronavirus quarantine ramped up, shrinking beloved friends to a lonely thumbnail on my screen, sidelining everything from airlines to annual celebrations and reducing all visits to a doorbell dash.
As if the Coronavirus wasn’t enough, we in California got dumped on as if it’s the second coming of Noah’s Ark instead of Passover week.
I think I’m safe in saying none of us live in California for the rain.
When my husband and I drove up to UCLA to see Dr. Lee Rosen, specialist in neuroendocrine cancer and procurer of hot pink socks, he discussed my cancer prognosis by holding up his hands, palms facing, like two bookends.
“On the one hand you have a life-threatening illness,” Dr. Rosen said. “Get your affairs in order.”
He waved the opposite hand. “On the other hand, don’t sell all your jewelry because what are you going to wear to the ball?”
I’ve been rock solid sure I’m going to the ball, even if I have to wear a Cinderella wig.
But this week —
This week I was fully encapsulated in Hell Week. The mental anguish and physical punishment had a little to do with my third round of chemo and a lot to do with the strange environment we find ourselves in today–
Especially in our heads.
Be careful in there, my friends. It can be a dark, scary place. I know this from firsthand experience.
There’s been a 25% increase in alcohol sales and an 890% increase in calls to the federal mental health crisis line. This should tell you something.
This week, I found myself doing the pit crawl toward the other bookend in my mind, the forbidden one laced with barbed wire.
I tried to approach my advance directive and financials with an accountant mentality, not taking the word “beneficiary” personally: A person who derives advantage from something, generally an estate or trust.
In this case, death. Mine.
Wallowing in this mind space compelled me to start pulling out photo albums too, circa 1980s, 90s and beyond. I look at the girl I was and the woman I am now. I realize I’m a survivor.
At the age of 16, I was in a horrific car accident. My older sister took a corner too fast. We hit gravel and the car slid across the road, slammed into the ditch and flipped.
I was thrown through barbed wire though I remember none of this. What I do recall is opening my eyes to blue, blue sky in a golden field and wondering whether I was in heaven.
Then something flew into my peripheral: The car.
I had just enough time to register the drive shaft and the muffler when I realized it was coming down–
Right over me. I knew if I didn’t move, I’d be crushed beneath it.
When I came to again, the car was next to me, my sister on the other side–
As if it had been set down between us.
I believe it was.
I still bear the scars raked across my hip from that barbed wire. That experience changed me.
I was adamant about wearing seatbelts before there was ever a law.
Later, I’d have a horseback riding accident where a green mustang bolted when we came upon a stallion in a nearby pasture.
I didn’t have the riding skills then to pull her head to one side with the reins, instead I tried to pull her head down to her chest with both reins. She stopped on a dime and I flew up around her neck, hanging on with just my arms, feet dangling.
That bitch started running with me as a necklace.
I dropped and she trampled me, striking my head with her hoof on the way.
For the first time since that accident, I can see the crescent scar on my head.
I look in the mirror. I run my finger over the crescent:
After everything I’ve been through am I really going to give up on myself now? Am I going to let cancer beat me?
I try to smile valiantly, like the warrior people think I am. It looks fake, like the one I shoot passengers who ask stupid questions.
But there’s something more.
That girl in the prom photos and Walt Disney World college pics had no idea the difficulties that lay ahead for her. I wonder whether she would’ve had the courage to face them shining so brightly, knowing the certain heartache and pain that awaited.
I’d like to think so.
Broken hearts and alcohol addiction ain’t no sweetheart dance. It’s sandpaper against the soul, laying bare all the reasons why my favorite person to escape was me.
There is no escaping me now. Just like there is no escaping you.
Put down the booze and the despair, darling. It doesn’t look good on you.
We are in the final climb of this pandemic and Easter is upon us. Hit your knees, sing your song, pick up the weights. This too, shall pass and when it does, summer will be upon us with no layers to hide behind.
Everything is temporary and which way a thing changes depends on you.
I may look like a dandelion fluff ruffed up after a good wind but I’m still full of wishes.
Wishes, hopes and dreams are the stuff we’re made of. It’s what pulls us forward in these dreary days of quarantine while fear slides along our streets.
The sun will come out, the lockdown will cease and we will step outside and hug each other like we’re never gonna let go. Until then, I’m holding you in my heart.
You continue to amaze me with your heartfelt, writing. You weave a wonderful blend of sorrow and laughter and I don’t want it to stop! This is your best novel Val. We all love you so much Val.
“Hit your knees, sing your song, pick up the weights.”…..you are so gifted and so inspiring. With tears in my eyes I literally pulled myself off the couch to enjoy a walk. Mostly to hit my knees and talk to the Lord about you because lifting weights isnt gonna happen.
Heres the results from that talk 😊❤”God didn’t bring you this far to leave you” Hang on to that.
Love you very much Valerie thank you for sharing.
Vicky, you’ve always been in the wings supporting me from Day One on the jumpseat. I loved that my post inspired you to hit your knees AND go for a walk. What a beautiful thing when we can inspire one another.
You’ve always been a gorgeous inspiration. Love you my friend.
I love you, Carin. Thank you my Kona Angel!
Your words continue to inspire us all. You have the lovely humor amongst the sadness that is in all your beautiful words. Grace….that’s you. Keep fighting friend. You got this!! My love to you and I can’t wait to give you that big hug. I might not let go.
I don’t want you to let go… Ever! I’m so excited at the prospect of you and Debbi coming to see me. Yes!! I love that you said “Grace” is me. It was the name I wanted to give the daughter I never had. Love you, Debs.
I’m sobbing. You’re writing moves me. You inspire me to be better, stronger! I don’t see a dandelion! I see a warrior princess. Love you Valerie. Thank you for sharing. You are amazing and helping others more then you know❤️👏🏻
You are just as much a warrior as I am. I count you among my blessings every single day, Vicki. I’m so glad I inspire — you do the same for me!
Youuuuu are a very gifted writer, you so eloquently and vulnerably explain your experience. I am certain The old saying of fake it till you make it is ringing true right now. Remember those that have started this battle before you and know that they are still here living beautiful lives, just as I know you will. You have the best in the business as your team of doctors. I am sending you so much love and strength my beautiful zebra sister!!
Jeanvieve, you are one of the gifts cancer has given me. You have given me so much hope with your words and the information you’ve shared with me, my Zebra sister. Thank you for your love and strength!I so look forward to the day I get to meet lovely you in person.
Wow Valerie!!! You are so inspiring! I love your writing. I can just hear you talking to me! You always make me smile! Love you so much.
Your face always lights me up inside. I love you my friend!
I too love the way you write i just wish it was a fiction story and not your story !! Hey by the way you have the cutest bald head ever !! Not everyone can pull that off …..may God bless you this Easter . Lots of love and hugs from a distance of course . Xoxo
The rain has stopped, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and a gentle wind is blowing. Thanks for putting things into perspective, sharing your story, the good, the bad, and the reality. Thank you for opening your heart and your soul. We continue to pray for you every day. Pray for peace and a speedy recovery. You have so many people that love you and are here for you and will be with you through the good, the bad, and everything in between. ❤️❤️❤️😘
Yep – you grew up to be a downright fantastic writer Valerie! I remember you working on screenplays years ago and thought that was just amazing. Your triumphs of survival are reminders of who you are and the reason you will 100% pull through like the super human you are. Anyone with the gift to make OTHERS feel inspired, while enduring this less than lovely hurdle is truly a blessing. 💙💙💙
I always knew you were a SUPERHERO, and Beautiful too! Your AMAZING and I’m in awe of your strength.
Love ❤️ you to the moon and back❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
So proud of you Val! You keep faking the smile and the bravery until you get that wonderful news that you have won this battle! Then we will smile and laugh with you and celebrate your victory! Thanks for sharing your photo so we can see for ourselves that you are as beautiful as ever! May this Easter bring you new strength and determination as all our prayers join with yours to get you through this. We love you! ❤️❤️
Your beauty is so much more than the hair… I see that sassy, always thinking of how to put life in words, heart of yours shining as radiantly as ever! How can you be this pretty after the week you described? Your LIFE flows through the keyboard! Thank you for sharing yourself with us all. You are heroic and you have what it takes! I love you, Valerie, and I’m praying for you. Have a happy Easter!
Wow your words are so true & moving. You put everything into perspective. You are a strong fighter & you will beat this. It’s not a road anyone wants to travel but you have so many people to cheer you on.
You look beautiful… we are thinking of you always!!
Valerie….not sure if you remember me, I lived with Jan in Boston and flew for Delta. You are a beautiful writer! I am praying for you! You are strong, you are beautiful and you will kick cancer’s butt!!!
Ohhhh my friend you are a beautiful woman with a heart scripted on paper to share with us your journey. Thankyou!
Know we’re all on our knees for you my sweet friend. God has you close by. Some things I understand as a believer some I don’t. God why?…
Val you talked about what has happened to you with your car accident, the horse accident and now this, God was working in you a gift to express your thoughts and feelings. You are so well written in your experiences, I felt like I was with you, right there. I wasn’t but I know God was. He still is. He knows your every pain, your every trial and he’s there holding you up when we can’t be with you.
Love you sweet one! You ARE beautiful! And Gods masterpiece!
We adore you. Arlene
I am so proud of you Val. You are so so beautiful! You’re soul is so amazing and you are the most beautiful bald woman I have ever seen! We were born that way. I struggled to get outside today as toiled at the things I needed to do inside the house. But after not being able to get outdoors for so long due to Noah’s Ark and the corona virus I knew I needed to exercise and enjoy the outside. Tomorrow will I even be able to? I never enjoyed a walk so much. Passing people 6 feet away felt so strange but we all waved and nodded at each other with a smile. Somehow even though it is difficult but all the same to see the goodness in people was so amazing. I prayed for you whole heartedly as I walked/ran asking God to please heal our sweet Val. She doesn’t deserve this! I felt a peace like I’ve never felt. Somehow I feel God is doing his good works through all the strife. Also thinking about your hardship and our world crisis together. Seeing your post lighted my heart to realize there is hope in the world and we should never let go of that. Sharing your past has put perspective and reality in to all of our lives. I love you my friend and pray for your complete healing in Jesus name as we celebrate the most challenging Easter of our lives. I love your writing! You have an incredible gift.
💜 always
Thank you for this Val. Such inspiration to read about the challenges you have faced and overcome. Your strength and wisdom will guide you and moment by moment you will keep on keeping on. Warmest wishes for a Happy Easter and lots of love.
I’m praying for you and know you will come out of this! Thank You for your sharing and touching so many hearts!! Happy Easter and take it one day at a time…
You are beautiful Valerie. You’re an inspiration to us all. There are not many people who can put the words on paper to describe what you are going through, as you have. Your ability and heart to share it with all of us is mind boggling. You’re able to draw us in and share your deepest darkest thoughts. We love you so much girl. Stay strong and know our hearts are beating every day with you, even if we can’t be in the room. You are still very beautiful with out the golden locks! ❤️
❤️❤️❤️YOU MY PRECIOUS, TALENTED, STRONG WARRIOR ❗️😘😘
❤️RC❤️RC❤️RC❤️RC❗️😷😷
Always Beautiful 🌺, inside and out 😊💕
Hi Val,
Thank you so much for sharing your heart through your writing. When I arrived at the picture of you with out the golden locks, I was moved immediately with the thought “you look beautiful” You are truly beautiful inside and out. Cancer doesn’t have to kill. Your walking the journey. Certainly God has brought you through so much more. I look forward to your victory, the story of successfully winning this battle, and seeing how God brings you through! Virtual hugs for now.
Roberta