I have the dreaded oncology appointment today, wherein I will be fed statistics and survival rates and other comforting information.
And also, I cannot describe the amount of inner peace I feel regarding my decision for treatment. I feel more in touch now with my life’s purpose to serve others than I ever have. There are some things in life that cannot be explained. This is one of them. Through this diagnosis, I have come to recognize my own strength, and the amount of love for my fellow human that has always resided under layers of blubber and fear. Something in me has softened through all of this (aside from my muscle tone….. But really tho, my tummy has never been squishier. Actually maybe the beginning of college when I was chasing beer with pizza on the daily… Can’t wait to start running and power-vinyasa-ing again..)
I was having anxiety earlier in the week regarding this appointment. And then today, something miraculous happened.
It was ultra phlegmy, and under supported (these tissue expanders have made deep, diaphragmatic breathing a whole new experience…). I nearly choked on my own throat-goobers so hard that I had to stop the phrase. But I sang.
I have not opened my mouth to sing since the diagnosis in April. The last time I sang was the day we buried my grandmother. Getting through the Ave Maria was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my entire life. And then being diagnosed with cancer less than 2 weeks later pummeled me to the ground so hard that getting out of my nest of tissues and blankets on the couch became my goal for the day; tackling repertoire study, vocal technique, coloratura, etc seemed a bit irrelevant.
Today I sing for hope. I sing today in celebration of the inner peace I feel in this moment. I sing because life is beautiful. I sing for love and I sing for fear (and I believe we fear only because we love, so all there really is is love). I sing for surrender and I sing for release.