Cancer is like a passport to a whole new world. Not like Aladdin's "shining, shimmering, splendid" whole new world, but more like Star Trek's "resistance is futile" whole new world.
In my old world, I didn't have anything implanted in my neck to provide direct access my jugular vein. Nothing. I didn't have to use a special bathroom, and flush twice, because my urine was radioactive. I NEVER went to church on pain killers, just to find out that after sitting still for three hours with pain killers in your system, you get rather stoned ( I guess that was kind of like a magic carpet ride). In my old world, I didn't spend entire days in manic cleaning fits, cloroxing everything in sight in preparation for tomorrow's chemotherapy sickness.
Not that it's all bad. In my old world, I also never got surprise tickets to see Broadway musicals like "Wicked". I sat in awe for the first ten minutes of the show, utterly amazed that I was there. I finally had to tell myself to snap out of it, or I'd miss the whole thing!
My new world also includes MASSIVE doses of friendship, love and support, none of which I feel worthy of. After wondering to myself dozens of times what I had done to deserve the kind of compassion I have been receiving from my friends and family, the Spirit finally whispered to me: " It's not about what you've done, it's about who they are."
Tomorrow will undoubtedly bring another day of "whole-new-world-ness" and I'm pretty sure it won't include any cute little monkeys or Robin Williams, but that'll be ok, because what my new world does have is better..... Christians.