I've signed my first born away...*long post*

Well the decision has been made. There will be many tears. But it's been made.

I've decided to have the hysterectomy including the removal of my ovaries as well. It was a hard choice for me. Apparently i've been harboring some secret desires that maybe just maybe I would get lucky enough to find a partner who I would want to share the joy of giving life with... I had no idea that I felt this way, but as I signed the consent forms today I cried. The tears slipped forth from my eyes silently without the gasping racking sobs I've become accustomed to.

My mother sat across from me and when she came near me I told her no, I just didn't want to be touched right then. I felt I had betrayed my own body, willfully signing them away.

I was very very sad and still am. But, there is some light to this day. And it's a very interesting story that I have to tell. So to keep a little bit of light in among the darkness that fans itself out covering everything I write anymore, I will tell you this story.

~*~

Once again I found myself sitting in the immense waiting room surrounded by magnificent glass architecture and sunlight rays streaming in. It's such a paradox that a place of such death (death of ovaries, death of cancer, death of people suffering) should have such light about it. The presence of death I've understood since childhood is reserved for the palor of the funeral homes tended to by creepy people who wallow in death. It has no place among such beautiful light.

But I digress...

I noticed a woman, a rather large african american woman sitting across the way from me. I remembered her from the last time I was there. There was nothing spectacular about her but I remembered her.

Next I knew they were calling my name, distracting me from watching her. i headed into the doctors office and after making my decision and speaking to a thousand people who all had something to tell me (none of which I retained as I was lost in a fog), I signed my organs away. Numbly, I walked out into the packed waiting room unaware of anyone around me, mindful only of the hot tears precariously perched among my lower eyelids. I think my mother was speaking to me about coffee or something, but I don't recollect. I just kept walking to the door needing to get outside.

When I arrived out there, two women sat on a bench waiting for their ride or the shuttle and one of them was this african american woman I noticed from before. My mother went to have a cigarette walking away from the cancer center leaving me with the valet ticket for the guy to get the car. Sitting among the woman as the man went to get the car, I heard this woman talking about my mother smoking to the other elderly woman. I looked at her, and said "I wish I could get her to quit." She looked back at me and said "I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean for you to hear..." and I cut her off saying no no, I really do wish I could get her to quit.

As it turns out this woman is here because her daughter may have ovarian cancer and this african american woman (the girls mother) smokes. She came outside to smoke "5 cigarettes because baby I can't deal with this... I just can't".

What I tell you is true. I have no idea what came over me.

I immediately reached over and put my hand on her arm and told her it was ok, that she would quit soon. She looked at me and without a thought let me into her life. It was such a sweet silent transition from stranger to friend that had I blinked I might have missed it. She related to me that she was a god fearing woman and that she was afraid to pray to god for his help in this. I could have said anything, I could have walked away but she gave me this IN to her life and I could NOT ignore it. So I did a most surprising thing. I put my hand on her arm again and told her that that kind of talk was just her fear, her addiction talking. I told her that God knew she couldn't do it on her own and that he would carry her until she could stand on her own and do it.

She just stared at me wide eyed.

I then related to her some tips of quitting smoking (which I did in 2001 successfully). She laughed over the idea that cinnamon would help stave off cravings and together we chuckled over the image of me whipping out a cinnamon container everytime I had a craving.

My mother came over and reminded me that the car was here now, so off I went to my car, but as I did I leaned down to her and said, "It's ok to be afraid, but ask for help, you'll be heard".

Sitting in the car, I was overwhelmed with the desire to give this woman something, ANYTHING of mine that would provide some comfort. I believe wholeheartedly in energy and transferrence of positivity and energy and I just *knew* i had to give this woman something. So I reached into my bag and withdrew one of the thank you cards I had especially made for folks who had contributed money to my cause. Without a word I left my mother in the car and walked back over to this woman whose name I didn't know and sat back down.

She looked at me and for 10-20 seconds we sat there side by side, the breeze rustling my hair and giving us peace. I looked at her turning towards her and explained that when I was diagnosed with cancer, people from all over had come together even for just one night to be a support to me in a time when the world felt like it was crumbling away under my feet. She put her hand on me and sympathized that I was so young to have cancer and I told her, "People should do things like that more often... should care more often." She agreed. I told her as I handed her the card taking both her hands in mine, that I had made these cards as a way to let the people who had touched me know, that I in turn wished to touch them as I was indeed touching her now. I wanted to let her know that she is cared for, loved, and that she was not alone.

I think there were tears in her eyes when she said to me "You are the sweetest person I've ever known" and I said "No, I'm not" and I smiled at her as I continued "I'm just what we CAN be to each other". I stood up and hugged her tightly telling her again that she was loved and to not be afraid, that help was out there. I told her I would pray for her and her daughter that whatever their trials they come through with flying colors. And then I did a very surprising thing, I kissed her cheek and said "You are loved". And without a second glance back I walked back to the waiting car where my mother pulled away with me sitting in the front seat amazed and what I had just done.

I have never been afraid (in my youth particularly) to approach strangers and touch them, sometimes hug them, sometimes just have the ability to say the right thing at the right time. It's a gift I've always had, but its been dormant for so long I had begun to wonder if it really existed.

Today, I felt it again. I felt that pull, and that compulsion to say or do something that just *may* have helped another tremendously. It is an amazing thing to touch someone's soul and see the light inside go on no matter if it's just a flicker. There just are no words for it.

I am sad today for my loss of life giving organs. I am sad today for a woman I do not even know who wants to better her health and take care of her daughter. I am sad for so many that go without that touch from a stranger that says I care. I'll cry more for my issues,I am sure, but right now, I am calm.

I wish that woman well. I truly hope whatever light she felt today stays with her and somehow helps her. Instead of praying for myself right now, I'm praying and lighting a candle for her. May her heart feel it and respond and may your heart feel it and respond too. Because I have enough for everyone; everyone who wants it, can have it... Because I love you all in my own special way.

xo
Muse