Chapter Thirty Seven
August 31, 2009
12:37 a.m.
It’s been a while since I posted something…. Not since I’ve written, but since I’ve made them available to you.
Lots to say I suppose…but lots that I’m not ready to say either. I wonder if I’ve had a quarter-(ish) life crisis…sort of like a mid-life crisis but not as legitimate as the real thing?
I know in the end it’s really just trivializing what is and has been much larger crisis’ in my life all along, things that I’ve never wanted to admit were worth attention. Somehow getting sick has made me feel like life doesn’t care whether you work your issues out or you don’t. At the end of it all…it’s really quite simple…you are faced with whatever you did or didn’t do with the life you were provided. If you pretend you are perfect and that the problems you had belonged to others and not to you then more power to you I suppose. What I found out about me, in this very individualized journey, is that I won’t choose to face my death, next year or 50 years from now with the notion that I never really had the guts to peel it all back and face me.
Anyhoo – I won’t bore you with another labored chapter of introspection...so now for the good stuff. Do you know what I did today? I had a picnic at a picnic table of my very own. I built a fire and my dolly and I had lunch outside in the sunshine. She talked to her baby and pretended that huckleberries were tangerines because to her doll, they would seem like it. She scolded bugs for having the audacity to bother her in her lovely moment and she sang… beautiful little lyrics, all new and made up by her. This coming off of an evening in which I had the opportunity to watch her dance, literally, dance in the goal box. While she should have been providing sentry to a net she instead looked up at the rain opened her mouth…drank and laughed out loud. Then she danced in the dark illuminated by the field lights and those of the cars parked nearby. She danced in the darkness and splashed in the puddles and she was so happy…and I was so moved by it that I got out of my car and cheered in the middle of a monsoon. Not because she came anywhere near that ball…but because that kid has a better understanding of what is important in a day than I think I will ever have. She faced it all…new challenges and unknown spectators, the cold and darkness….she faced them all and she laughed. She knew exactly who she was and who she wasn’t and she didn’t pretend to be anything other than the incredibly delightful, Campbell Rose. She danced in the rain and will never know how much she inspired a grown woman in the middle of what has proven to be murky waters…to become something so much better.

I’m on my way to Anchorage next week to participate in a documentary. My goal is to share some of my experience so that others who are recently diagnosed can see that there is hope after the diagnosis. I am struggling with little parts of the process though. “Bring an outfit that you feel most represents you.” What the hell? Good God. Huh? I am less worried about the major decisions regarding the film process, like for instance: Should I participate? What will my message be? Do I really have something worth sharing? Will I bare my scars on film?
No, instead I am wide awake at 12:37 a.m. wondering …..guess..just guess. If you know me, then you know where I am headed with this. Yep, I’m laying here wondering WHAT IN THE HELL AM I GOING TO WEAR. AND! AND!!!!! The producer and crew are seriously asking me to pick ONE outfit that most represents me. ONE??? REALLY….ONE? Well depending on the day, and my mood, I might be channeling crazy-angry girl, or happy-optimistic girl, or professional-put together girl or on a really bad day….I- don’t- give- a- shit girl. Soooooo, when I should be focused on the positive words that I might choose to share with others diagnosed, instead I am mentally running through my wardrobe trying to figure out who the hell I am based on one single outfit. I know, in the big scheme of things, no one is actively dying but Good God! I have no friggin’ idea who I am from day to day and the thought that somehow this visual is going to be permanent is really bugging me. What if I die next year and this video is the one video that my son and daughter look at obsessively to remember who I was…what if I choose the wrong outfit. What if I choose crazy/angry girl and my daughter based on that one little snippet of film attempts to be crazy/angry girl for the rest of her life. OMG! Seriously, if these producers really had any sense at all, they would say: “bring them all.”

Sequins!!!! That’s the other thing…. In my opinion it’s just a bad precedent to set, the whole notion that somehow there is not enough worth celebrating in life to wear sequins regularly. I completely understand that the majority of the general public would disagree with me. However, I choose to live my life in a way that is more glittery than most. I do this because I do not participate in the use of narcotics and I do not use anti-depressants (yet) and based on those two things alone, I feel that a pick me up is warranted. And so, I believe whole heartedly in the use and abuse of glitter, sequins, bows, rhinestones and diamonds. I believe in them, I use them and I love them…and I do not care if you disagree. Yes Campbell Rose, someday you will face yourself in a mirror and hold up the glittery bauble or shiny skirt and think: “Should I?” And the best advice I can give you is to tell you that Yes, it may reek ever so slightly of “Vegas Girl Past Her Prime” but your mommy would still say “Hell Yes Little Lady! For God sake pick the shiny one and wear the bauble too.”

j