What's your fortune?

There's a little Chinese place down the road from me. Sometimes on the weekend when I don't feel like cooking, I'll get hubby to run down and pick  up some lunch. Today was one of those days. Although I didn't really feel like eating anything, I knew I had to eat something to keep my strength up so I ordered vegetable Egg Foo Young.

Jamie, my youngest daughter, and I sat down with our Chinese food and popped a movie in. We enjoyed our lunch and when it was time to  read our fortune cookies, I opened mine first. I couldn't believe what it said on the little slip of paper - "A carrot a day may keep cancer away." REALLY? If I'd known that, I could have foregone all of this pain. I wonder who comes up with these silly statements anyway?

For years, I didn't eat fortune cookies. I didn't care for the taste, but I'd crack those things open for the fortune. That was one of the best parts of the meal. When I was in college, while sitting with a group of friends, the game was that you had to read the fortune aloud to the rest of the table. Everyone would add two words to the end of the fortune making it hilariously funny. The two words that were added were the words "in bed." Most of the fortunes took on a whole new meaning by just adding those two little words, for example: "your life may be filled with magical moments...in bed" or "it never pays to kick a skunk...in bed." But today's fortune wasn't funny even with the two little words "in bed" added to the end of the statement - "a carrot a day may keep cancer away...in bed." No. Definitely not funny. 

I did laugh thinking about the person who was paid to write fortune cookie sayings for a living. I could just picture the job description in my mind:  "Need sharp thinking individual with strong writing and communication skills, as well as a quick wit and sense of humor. Personally rewarding career for a unique individual but don't expect to get paid very handsomely … in bed." LOL!

People often take fortune cookie messages to heart. They crack open the yellow crescent moon cookies that conclude their Chinese restaurant meal, and eagerly hunt for predictions, revelations, and deeper meaning. Many save their favorites, carrying them around in a wallet or purse thinking the cosmos has imparted a divine snippet of wisdom chosen personally for them. Others simply toss their little slips of paper into the waste with the leftovers from their meal knowing it will soon end up in the garbage.

For most of us, it's just a silly childish game we play to add a bit of humor into our day. For me though, the carrot/cancer fortune wasn't funny. In fact, I really wished that the person who'd come up with that statement could have seen my face as I read it. I would have loved for him/her to see me sitting on my bed with the clear plastic vials of bodily fluids pumping into them as the wounds from my mastectomies slowly healed. Perhaps then the writer would have taken a different approach to writing silly cookie fortunes. Perhaps he/she would have changed the saying to read "Wise man never upsets woman with blood grenades dangling from chest...in bed" instead of using a flippant statement filled with stupidity.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

This is not a game (warning graphic picture in this post)

These are my drainage grenades

When the TV reality game show, Survivor, aired in May 2000, I was intrigued. I watched intently as a group of strangers was marooned in a desolate location. The group was given very little in the way of survival implements and had to learn to use what they had to make it through 39 days of game play.

During the time they were involved in the game, they were to use whatever method available to outwit, outplay and outlast the other members of the tribe. The last person standing would receive the title of sole survivor and receive a million dollar prize.

To make the show more interesting for TV, producers made sure to choose players with colorful character. Conflict often would boost ratings for the show. Although the game was manipulated to provide exciting TV content, the basis behind the game got my attention. I didn't focus on the social game they were playing but rather on the skill set that each member of the tribe had to draw on for strength. A few of the players boldly professed their faith in God while others vainly pumped themselves up. Their strategies and attitudes shifted and changed throughout the game. It was entertaining to say the least for the first few series. Now the game has become old hat and they are struggling to find new ways to make the show interesting again and hold viewers attention.

I always wondered what it would be like to be able to claim the title of sole survivor. I wondered if the players friends and even their enemies would hold them in high esteem after making it through the 39 days on the show. As honorable as that TV series title might seem to the winning player, the title does nothing more than represent an accomplishment in a game. It has nothing to do with the skills required to make it through real life situations like Breast Cancer.

Breast Cancer is not a game. It is a life changing event. Sometimes, it swoops in like a huge, black vulture seeking to gobble up its prey. Other times, it silently slides in like sunlight under a door gently moving along undetected. The people who end up in the Breast Cancer challenge don't get to choose whether or not they want to be involved. Breast Cancer does the choosing. There is no game host helping to pick players who might make the show interesting and fun.

Just a few days ago, I had surgery to remove both breasts. The moment the doctor removed that last piece of tissue from my chest wall I became a Breast Cancer Survivor. While this is a title that I am honored to hold, I would never have chosen it for myself.

These past few days have been very difficult. I've dealt with pain I've never experienced before- both emotionally and physically. I've had to accept the challenge of facing a new body image, one that is no longer healthy and whole. I've had to deal with the humiliation of having others help me dress and bathe. I've watched through tear filled eyes as my husband or daughter help empty my drainage grenades. I've had to be reminded daily that I no longer have my femininity. I have been humbled and abased but I am alive. I am surviving. I won't win a million dollar prize, but my life is much more valuable than that and I am honored to be able to feel my heart beating inside my chest. I am thankful that my lungs fill with life giving air. I am grateful for eyes that see and ears that hear. Survivor. I'll take that title and know I've earned it for now although my Cancer valley has just begun.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved