Over the last thirty odd years, I've had lots of jobs. Done lots of interesting work, lots of horribly boring work. Worked with people that I grew to care deeply about, and some that I grew to kinda hate.
Making the move to the federal government was a hard move, but well worth it when my kids were little. At times I've chafed over the work. Over the last six years, I've had some really great opportunities to do some "fun" work. And, each and every time cancer has stopped me. Yep, cancer seems to be stalking me.
Somehow though, something in the universe seems to link new work opportunities with cancer.
Six years ago, I was approached to work as the EA/Policy Analyst for an ADM. I said No, then No again, then No again. The ADM in question, while very talented and successful, had a personality a little too similar to mine for comfort. I felt like there would be a good chance of a blow up at the end of some random long week - that would end badly for the one much lower on the totem pole. Then, ADMs changed, I was asked again, and off I went. Feeling empowered and using my one claim to fame, my ability to talk, cajole or force people to do what I wanted, when I wanted it... no matter how unreasonable the timeframe.
Fast forward a few months, and my Mom is diagnosed with an aggressive cancer - a quick calculation of my emotional and physical capacities - and I'm off work for a couple of months to get Mom through her chemo and radiation. And, say goodbye to the cool job.
Some time passes, and another really neat opportunity presents itself. I'm working with a bunch of folks who's pinkies and baby toes are smarter than I am. To whom I HATE to say that I graduated from... cough... Carleton. Even though I've suddenly dropped 40 IQ points, I'm keeping my head above water. And, enjoying the challenge.
Another fast forward, and my Mom's cancer is back with a vengeance. It's spread to her brain. She has little time left- who knew that little time would actually mean five months and five days. I take heaps and loads of leave, every little scrap and then some. And, after she has passed away, I've lost my way. And, soon the assignment ends and I'm no longer in the cool albeit challenging job.
But life goes on, kids are trundling their way into their futures, and although work is horrible because we are downsizing, and downsizing and I watch good friends become affected, and I can almost taste their bitterness in my mouth, the part of me that loves being busy, starts getting a kick out of my job. Then, due to other's misfortunes, I get an opportunity to travel internationally. Oooh, now this could be fun.
Oh no, another quick fast forward, and the stupid asinine sore spot on my tongue turns out to be not so asinine. Not so irrelevant. In fact, it's cancer. Oral cancer. Kinda rough to take since I have NEVER smoked, don't drink, have none of the risk factors. But yeah me, I have cancer.
I know the drill, was there at my Mom's diagnosis, and now wait to get swept into the river that is cancer treatment in Canada. I'll wait for the appointment with the oncologist, I'll try not to go mad wondering what stage I am at, I'll wait for the CT scan, I'll wait to have surgery booked. I'll have radiation. And, hopefully, at the end of it, I'll have enough tongue to talk.
But fuck me, enough is enough. Three times better be the charm.