heart bones

In my last post I wrote about a close friend and the unfortunate intricacies of human emotion. We must all be allowed to mourn-- to rob someone of that right is selfish and inhumane. My reason for finally opening up about this deep wound I've been concealing is as follows: this is a confessional blog about young adults with cancer, and this is something we all go through yet never share. I've watched many of my brilliant friends die unfair, painful deaths at a young age, and I know I await a similar fate. Each person/family deals with trauma in an entirely different way. Some need you more, and you feel guilty for not being able to be there enough. Some push you away out of misplaced anger, or due to a coping mechanism, or simply to conserve energy. With such a delicate and confusing subject, you try to take cues and read between the lines-- you try to do what's best for your loved ones. Sometimes you get it wrong, sometimes you never know. Sometimes there is no closure, or their family denies you closure. The key is communication and empathy: the feelings involved in end-of-life decisions are never easy, and all of them are ok. We must be mindful that everyone mourns in their own way. Even anger and irrationality play a part in the mourning process. However-- it is not ok to deny someone the right to love, mourn and find the closure they need. Don't let anyone bully you into thinking you've no right to mourn: it is their own irrational & misplaced anger, not any fault of yours.

Throughout the past 8 years I've realized that there are so many variations to how the story ends. And also that it never really ends. Through the blur of pain we must keep our focus on love. I feel sorry for the people that succumb to anger (especially the ones that endeavor to cause others pain just to relieve a bit of their own) but I will love them just the same. We're all in this together.




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Chemo update: I'm on my 5th cycle of 12. It is the hardest thing I've ever had to do-- go through this intensive chemo alone and still manage to take care of myself. As the years go by, the more chemo I take, the more my body just disintegrates from the inside out. Every new relapse is harder than the last. I need a blood transfusion after every cycle. I'm too weak to get out of bed most days. I've fallen behind with friends, keeping up relationships is impossible-- I think of them daily but don't have the energy to visit or even converse. I sleep a lot. As always, I'm just trying to get through it and praying for another remission.

Usually the last 2 days before I start another cycle are my best, which means I have 4 days a month wherein I'm feeling ok. ish. Let me tell you-- I'm trying to make the most out of those 4 days. I recently took a trip to Washington D.C. to see the National Gallery, Smithsonian collection, and pandas (!!!)... life-long dream realized! I've also resumed work on an art project involving the journey to healing and death that I'd put on hold, ironically, after my relapse in July-- I'll be having a show in June, stay tuned.



Tian Tian!


I know my posts are as rare as my bowel movements as I go through treatment-- follow me @kaylinandres on Instagram for slightly more regularity.

For that Badass, Becca Babcock.

Last month I was perusing the blogs that I follow, and I was sad to realize that our Becca is gone. I say "our Becca" because she was a vocal (and super-awesome) young adult cancer blogger, who shared her journey and followed along as we shared ours. She was part of our collective voice, and she will always be, thanks to her writing.  I am extremely touched that her mother continues to post her journal entries, so that we may benefit from Becca's private insight. I have years and years of journal entries just like Becca's, and I would hope that my mom would do the same. I think our shared goal is always: I want to be of benefit. I want my life to mean something to someone.  I think that by sharing our deepest fears and pains, we can accomplish this in an especially intimate way.

I met the fiercely intelligent Becca in 2008 through Planet Cancer. She commented occasionally on this blog and she always had good advice. I guess it was as if she'd done 5 successive tours of duty-- she'd been at war for awhile, and she knew the ropes. We all exchange battle stories, but in the end it seems we still feel hopelessly alone. We fight alone. Nevertheless, there are things that Becca wrote, privately, that make me feel not-so-alone:

"You know what one of the most awful parts of cancer is? Knowledge.Of course, that is an odd statement, because at first I would be inclined to say that is one of the gifts of cancer. When trying to appease myself somehow with the thought of cancer and all that it entails, I would find a very small amount of comfort in certain knowledge that comes with diagnosis.That knowledge includes things such as: I KNOW the true meaning of the phrase 'Life is Short'."

[I often feel that I "know too much" for my own mental health, due to what cancer has taught me.]

"I think often how I don't think I'll be alive very long. not like I think I may keel over, say, tomorrow. but unless a miracle happens very very soon, I feel inevitably, I'll be defeated :(  (incidentally, it's now tomorrow & I didn't keel over...). I sometimes wonder why i can't just get it easy & fall asleep one night & just not wake up? I wonder if people that has happened to, if they could ever appreciate how lucky they are to have that happen. they not only have no idea that's coming, they don't have to spend time agonizing over unfinished business... they don't have to worry about the pain and suffering associated with a sudden violent death. I really envy those people. Anywho, I'm kinda just weary on life today. I can't wrap my mind around my life at this time. I don't seem able to find motivation in order to "care" about things. & in general...I'm just tired of people. normal people. they bother me without even trying or attempting to. oh, that, and it's back to cold.  BAH."

[link to Becca's amazingly articulate, literally bad-ass blog here]


I want to dedicate my life, somehow, to young adults with cancer-- there is nothing else I feel passionate about anymore. I've spent the last few months in an incredibly deep depression. It has been difficult coming to terms with life in the afterglow of cancer. It has left an indelible mark of uncertainty and finality upon my life. It has left physical and mental pain that has yet to resolve, and at times is overwhelming. I am still searching for a life after cancer. Turns out it doesn't just come to you naturally, like breathing, as one would expect. You really have to fight for stability and your own ideal future. You have to come to terms with the knowledge you've been given-- that pain endures, and death is imminently unknown, and therefore life is precious and bullshit is insufferable. Right now, that's what I'm working on. If I can get past those things, and stay healthy, I'll be golden.

I am unsure what role I will play in cancer advocacy, but I'd like it to be an ongoing goal. For now, Jon and I are continuing with our Cancer Comic. If things go as planned, we should have the entire graphic novel finished by September, just in time for the MTV documentary to air. We are adding some of my personal writing to the final publication, and I've been thinking about opening up a submissions process to allow fellow cancer writers and artists to be published. Thoughts? Anyone interested in submitting an essay or illustration to Terminally Illin? I feel that it could have a monumental effect on the future cancer community if it became a communal, collective effort... but I'm unsure of how to facilitate this.

I am also planning on being much more active here on CIH, because I've realized that my writing continues to positively effect people's lives. I want to say that I appreciate immensely the feedback that my readers give-- there are many visitors largely unknown to me that have been following my story for years, probably out of morbid curiosity, but also out of compassion and a genuine appreciation for human expression. People like me, people like Becca. People like you. Let's keep sharing, no matter what.