The id, the ego and the "C" word.

 

A friend passed away a few weeks ago. One of those "heavier" things I didn't care to discuss with anyone (no offense...family included). Breast cancer. Again. This makes the third friend in seven months.  My completely narcissist self wonders if I somehow helped bring them (and continue to bring my friends) harm. Maybe I missed a cosmic cue somewhere along the line. Maybe there was a moment that a little encouragement or a special code word would've prompted a different, positive chain of events. 

 

I ask myself the same question about my grandmother's death every day.  "If I had just stayed home from work that day..." "If I had just fed her something different that morning..."

 

More logically, am I doing everything in my power to help keep the people I love their healthiest?

 

I've been aware of very few people's cancer concerns until now. Since the stroke, my personal health concern has been for my blood and heart health. I certainly never heard about it back in Miami. Suddenly, the C word is a giant dark cloud hovering above. Its prompted me to be healthier. I work out. I do my checks in the shower. I even tried the new non-invasive (and non-embarrassing) breast check thing during my exam. There's no history of cancer in my family on either side. But it still feels like I'm supposed to do something with this. I'm being prompted to act. But I don't believe in fate. I believe "there's no fate but what we make (dap me, Sarah Connor)".

 

I've been nosing around online for peeks at what other folks are doing to promote cancer awareness. Surprisingly, there is a wealth of info in Second Life.  

 

Well, I somehow made a post about a friend's death all about me. I don't know why. I meant it to express in words what I've been feeling about knowing her, laughing with her, and holding her hand for the last year. I suppose I've been thinking about those things for weeks now.  And now that I have the opportunity to talk about her, my id gets in the way. I'm expressing myself in my famous detached manner. 

 

We submitted a video for a national cancer campaign contest a few months ago.  Here's a shortened version. Just to give you an idea of how brave and funny my Desi was. We met in a ladies room, wearing the exact same dress. Years ago. People constantly assumed we were sisters, although she was "100% chica caliente". She would arrange her treatment appointments so that I could harass her the whole way there. If you and I talked or texted or skyped after work, chances are high that I was at the hospital at that time. I just didn't tell you. Or anyone.

Edit 08.15.14:  I screen captured this video to chop it down from its original (10 min) length. I'll try again. I really want to show Desi's character and wit here. Currently finishing an essay for a class...will hopefully have it up later.