Cancer Teaches

Going Home From Chemo #1

My original title of this post was going to be "The Retreat of the Snark."  Isn't that very military?  Or perhaps Renaissance? Maybe I'm getting too full of myself and am too much in my head?

June 17th.  Regular, planned mammogram on the last day of school.

Call backs.  June 20th.  Mammogram Part 2.  Biopsy.  World begins to turn.

Over the past few years I have tried to embrace my Type A personality so that I am not trying to control the planet, but embrace what comes at me.  I read back to my posts here in MausiGal, and see many times I did this with snark.  It's no surprise that I did joke with Kidlet A and B that my license plate was going to be SNARKY.  Give it to me!  Don't like my cookies because you don't like sugar? Snark!  Don't like the fact that I adore flip flops? Snark!

Snark.

Of course I'm totally off topic now and I google boojum and find this:

Boojum Mexican Burrito Bar

My mind starts thinking about how I can incorporate this into my "Comidas - Parte 2" lesson tomorrow.  To middle schoolers the word "Boojum" is just going to be way too funny.  How do I know? Because I think my mind is stuck at age twelve.

This is a good thing.

The snark is leaving.  I caught myself in the car the other day doing the Boston MausiGal Car Snark bit.  This involves the other person driving's...
1) Make of car
2) Speed of Driving
3) Use of cell phone (this is allowable snark - GET OFF THE ROAD and/or PULL OVER!)
4) Excessive avoidance of wee, little pot holes in a non-spring month in New England.  Seriously - I love the "avoid the pot hole" game to show my driving expertise, but a dead squirrel (sad face - means winter is coming soon!) in the road is not the same as a pot hole. You don't need to get five feet over for said dead animal / pot hole / shirt thrown out the window from night of college revelry (or perhaps Book Club Revelry.  I hear them Suburban Book Clubs GET DOWN!).

Cancer Teaches.

Yes.  For my Postcrossing status (Postcrossing Forum) I had "Cancer sucks."  Since I returned to school on Monday the true meaning of why I am going through this illness shines through.

Cancer Teaches.

Yet this may be only for me.   EACH PERSON HAS THEIR OWN CANCER JOURNEY!  Some people can do chemo, work out at the gym two days later, and then take a flight to Australia.  ¿Yo?  I don't want to document it publicly.  My recovery involved having Saul and Seal (rescue doggies!) close to my side in my bed, keeping my warm where I was in pain.  Baking on a few afternoons because I couldn't lie down or sit down because that would hurt so much.

The Neroli candle Kindergarten Artist Friend gave me.  I am hooked!

When I went into the Friends' Place at Dana Farber to choose a wig, I noticed they had a board with all sorts of bracelets to sell for different types of cancer.  Then it hit me.

• Breast Cancer
• Bone Cancer
• Pancreatic Cancer
• Esophageal Cancer
• Cervical Cancer
• Prostate Cancer
• Ovarian Cancer
• Skin Cancer (Melanoma)
• Testicular Cancer

And guess what? I have run out of room.  Because cancer is that one, little thingee that seems to find you when you're like, "I'm a snarky mama and I am GOLD!"  In my family with multiple illnesses and health conditions, I am the blesséd one.  Hit me up with more good genes!"

#epicfail

Or is it?

The anchor.  The symbol of hope. #deltagammaforlife

(from The Friends' Place in Dana Farber)

I teach my students that what you think is a failure is your superpower.  I actually tweeted about this yesterday.  I am trying to reframe this with cancer.  I know some of you are right now thinking, "Um, Mausigal? Put down the coffee and eat some salsa and chips."  But I mean it.

These past few weeks have shown me the power of friendship, community, and being an  EDUCATOR.  If you're reading my blog and you think, "Should I teach?" email me right now and I'll give you my phone number and we're going to talk!  My colleagues and students came through for me these past few weeks more than I can image.  Let's include the families, too.  I'm not trying to say that I'm some freakin' rock star who deserves adoration.  Cancer shows you that there are people in your realm who are kind.  Who want to share their stories.  Want to learn more.  Want to help others, even if doesn't have to do with cancer.  Who want to become better, empathetic people. That last line has stood out to me the most over the past two days in my work.  Never, ever put down students.  They are the most valuable resource we have on earth.

Family. Friends.  Colleagues.  Sorority sisters.  Students.

I am overwhelmed with the support I receive, and it has taught me this:

• Retreat the Snark.
• Life.  Too Short.
• DO GOOD
• Embrace the joy and share it with whomever you come into contact with!

The guy at the gas station.  The checkout clerk at Market Basket.  Your dog walker.  Your boss.  Your boss' boss.  The owner of your company via email.  The roommate from college twenty plus years ago.

Because everyone wants to be loved.  They may not respond or smile or look.  But you have given them a hope they so desperately need.

BECAUSE YOU ARE AMAZING.  YOU HAVE SUPERPOWERS!

Don't ever freakin' forget it!

I love you all from the bottom of my heart!

Xoxo Mausigal (and sorry this is so long and you probably had to go out and buy two venti lattes to read it!)

"My birthday should never be remembered..."

These were the words my grandfather spoke on 9/11/01.  I had called him from my home in Lowell, Massachusetts, making sure he was doing ok.  I had wrapped two packages for him the night before, and decorated the wrapping paper.  My twin kidlets, just a year old, loved visiting him to look for "monkeys under the bed."  This was a game we had.  At Grampy's house we had a small container of stuffed animals, and somehow Kidlets A and B thought there were monkeys under the bed.  This may root back to the story of "The Monkey in Berlin" from when my grandfather was stationed at Checkpoint Charlie after World War II, but that's for another time.

Here is a photo of Carroll Sr. and I from my wedding.  The quality is off, as it's a photo of a photo.  However, I was brought to tears as I noticed the "Photo Orb" next to me to the right. Yeah, I'm an X-Files sucker for the phenomenal.  I would love to think that orb appeared there, being my grandmother, Rita, to tell me everything will be ok with chemo on Thursday.  That she is here.  But do I even need to ask? Both she and my Grandfather Berg, and my Grandfather and Grandmother Morris, as well as everyone else in my DNA chain, are there.  They are the reason I jump in the car and drive to the 802, bake for hours at 3am on a weekday and enjoy it, stand in front of youngsters and inspire.  THIS is my DNA.  I was born to be, well, a sweet badass.  Heck, my grandmother's maiden name was Sweet!

Every 9/11 I think of my grandfather and the sadness he had in his voice when I told him I still wanted to stop by with his birthday gift, and to see the kidlets.  Yes, his words were, "My birthday should never be remembered on such a horrific day for our country."  Carroll Sr. was a veteran.  His history included multiple hardships that many today could probably not endure.  And no, I am not making him up to be a saint, because few of us are.  But his love for the United States and the freedoms we have here have made me remember to be thankful for all that I have.  A simple kid from Reading, Massachusetts, who went on to have his word displayed in the Air and Space Museum.  Whenever I go there and point it out to people I get so excited!  I hope I'm well enough to do it this year with my 8th graders, because they are awesome students.  My shoes are ready! 

If there is one thing my Grandfather Berg taught me (and he taught me so much!), it's never be a checkbox.  Keep learning.  Don't fit the mold that people want to put you in.  Break that box!  I hope I have done him proud!  Happiest of birthdays, Grampy.  The kidlets and I love you!

Love to all!
xoxo MausiGal