You can't change your situation. The only thing that you can change is how you choose to deal with it.

Statistics are information, not condemnation. The objective, when you have cancer and want to combat fatality, is to make sure you find yourself in the long tail of the curve. 

On the threshold of death, one can still save one's life...

You've made your decision

Now get up and leave

The familiar sting of the woodcutter's swing to the tree

I'll fall in the forest

To elbows and knees

And it won't make a sound

Since there's no one around here to see

I was prepared to love you

And never expect anything of you

If the spirit has left you baby

Don't lie to yourself

Put them old records on

And admit that it's gone somewhere else

Just because we're beasts of blame by nature

Doesn't mean that you should carry it again

It's a question of needs and not rosary beads in the end

I was prepared to love you

And never expect anything of you

And there's no patron saint of sudden restraint

Baby there ain't no sword in a lake

Just a funeral wake

You are the coldest star in the sky

Only I couldn't see it, I was blind

And in comes the black night

Calling your name since you were born

Only I couldn't hear it

I was empty as a drum

I was prepared to love you

And never expect anything of you

And there's no patron saint of sudden restraint

Baby there ain't no sword in a lake

There ain't no sword in a lake

There ain't no sword in a lake

Just a funeral wake

If You Keep On Believing,

The Dreams That You Wish Will Come True. 

You dont feel the way i do, or care the way i do.. so give me a reason why i should care anymore.. 

Tried so long. Tried so hard. All for you. 

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let us down, probably will. You'll have your heart broken and you'll break others' hearts. You'll fight with your best friend or maybe even fall in love with them, and you'll cry because time is flying by. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, forgive freely, and love like you've never been hurt. Life comes with no guarantees, no time outs, no second chances. You just have to live life to the fullest, tell someone what they mean to you and tell someone off, speak out, dance in the pouring rain, hold someone's hand, comfort a friend, fall asleep watching the sun come up, stay up late, be a flirt, and smile until your face hurts. Don't be afraid to take chances or fall in love and most of all, live in the moment because every second you spend angry or upset is a second of happiness you can never get back.

Some days there won't be a song in your heart.  Sing anyway.

During chemo, you're more tired than you've ever been.  It's like a cloud passing over the sun, and suddenly you're out. You find that you're stronger than you've ever been.  You're clear.  Your mortality is at optimal distance, not up so close that it obscures everything else, but close enough to give you depth perception.  Previously, it has taken you weeks, months, or years to discover the meaning of an experience.  Now it's instantaneous.

Here's a random idea,

Just out of the blue.

How about you fall for me,

As hard as I fell for you?

One feels that the past stays the way you left it, whereas the present is in constant movement; it's unstable all around you.

God that was strange to see you again

Introduced by a friend of a friend

Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'

In that instant it started to pour,

Captured a taxi despite all the rain

We drove in silence across Pont Champlain

And all of the time you thought I was sad

I was trying to remember your name...

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin

Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in

Now you're outside me

You see all the beauty

Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose

I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose

I'll write you a postcard

I'll send you the news

From a house down the road from real love...

Live through this, and you won't look back...

Live through this, and you won't look back...

Live through this, and you won't look back...

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave

You were what I wanted

I gave what I gave

I'm not sorry I met you

I'm not sorry it's over

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save... 

To live in the heart you leave behind is not to die.

Why should they know their fate? 

Since sorrow never comes too late, 

And happiness too swiftly flies. 

Thought would destroy their paradise. 

No more; where ignorance is bliss, 

'Tis folly to be wise.

Knowledge of the self is the mother of all knowledge. So it is incumbent on me to know my self, to know it completely, to know its minutiae, its characteristics, its subtleties, and its very atoms.

Take my hand.

That's all I ask of you.

Its Crazy right? 

To love someone who hurt you.

Its crazier to think..

Someone who hurt you,
Loves you

For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

Life's feelings are ephemeral. So is life.  We're here one minute, and then we're gone the next. I should know that better than anybody. If you keep living trying to protect yourself, nothing is ever gonna touch you.

There comes a time in life,

When you have to let go of

All the pointless drama

And the people who create it,

And surround yourself with people that make

You laugh so hard

That you forget the bad

And focus solely on the good.

After all, life is too short to be

Anything but happy.

To believe is to know that

Everyday is a new beginning.

Is to trust that miracles happen,

And dreams really come true.

To believe is too see angels

Dancing among the clouds.

To know the wonder of a stardust sky

And the wisdom of the man in the moon.

To believe is to know the value of a nurturing heart.

The innocence of a child's eyes

And the beauty of an ageing hand, 

For it is through their teachings we

Learn to love.

To believe is to find the strength

And courage that lies within us.

When it comes time to pick up

The pieces and begin again.

To believe is to know 

We are not alone.

That life is a gift

And this is our time to cherish it.

To believe is to know

That wonderful surprises are just

Waiting to happen,

And all our hopes are 

Within reach.

If only we believe

A kiss doesn't mean anything if it's dishonest...

As a patient, i don't count the days, I make the days count.

"You can never connect on a deeper level if you idolise someone - you don't see the real person."

Some people come into our lives and gently go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts and we are never the same.

No matter who weaves in and out of your life, regardless of the quality of those deep friendships and familyships, I'm the only common denominator at this point who's been with me the whole time. And there's this sense of trying to make sense of the ultimate solitude. It's not a negative or even a positive. It's just a fact. 

"We die as we live"

In the sweetness of friendship, let there be laughter and sharing of pleasures for in the due of little things the heart finds it’s morning and is refreshed...

Disease has a way of invading your social space, forcing your hand. Will you tell your family and close friends only? What about acquaintances and work mates? Will you share your diagnosis on Facebook? Who knew cancer needed a social consultant?

I’ve struggled with the awkwardness of cancer ever since my diagnosis back in June. When I told people my news, some people froze, falling silent. One person immediately began telling a story of an aunt who had died from a brain tumour. “Will you lose your hair?” someone blurted out. “Are you going to die?”.

Breaking the news of my diagnosis felt like an existential game show in which people rushed to buzz in with the first thought that came to mind.

I admit to sometimes being hurt by the way my friends have reacted to my news. Some didn’t write or call at all. Those who did often sounded uncomfortable and distant. I needed their support, and I wondered where they were.

When I was first in the hospital, some of my visitors seemed so intent on not upsetting me that they avoided the topic of cancer altogether. Others just couldn’t seem to find any words. When two uni friends came to visit, I watched their faces fall as they took in the sight of my bald head and sunken cheekbones. The last time we’d seen each other was in class. An awkward silence ensued, and I sensed it was up to me to take the initiative. I took a deep breath: “So, can you believe how weird I look without any hair?”

But in the year since my diagnosis, my feelings of hurt have given way to understanding. How can I expect anyone to produce the perfect, reflexive response to such sudden and unpleasant news? Cancer can catch even the best of us off guard. Sometimes the emotions come pouring out. Sometimes they stay locked inside. I’ve realised that it’s nearly impossible to summon the “right” words while simultaneously processing the news that someone you love has a life-threatening illness. I find myself counseling my friends and family that there is no perfect thing to say — but that they just have to say something.

And I admit to making my own mistakes. Mums cousin Brad had a stage 4 Glioma. As he described how the cancer had spread to his abdominal region and lungs, I clammed up. I said a few rote phrases and fled as soon as I could. I didn’t call him again for several months.

Over the course of those months, I thought of him often. I had repeated conversations, at the dinner table, about what Brad must be going through and how badly I wanted to help. My feelings were genuine, I even remember drafting and redrafting a letter to him. But I couldn’t find the right words. In the end, I never sent it. I was scared. Frozen. To him, it must have seemed as if I just didn’t care.

My own cancer experience has taught me that the most comforting words from friends have often been both the simplest and the most honest. 

When feelings of abandonment and betrayal arise with a soul mate, they do not last. Once soul mates achieve an ultimate level of symbiosis and serenity with each other, it remains forever.

We recognise a soul mate by the supreme level of comfort and security we feel with that person. That doesn't mean that there aren't issues that remain to be ironed out. Rather, it means we know intuitively that we can resolve issues with our soul mate without losing her love and respect.

It's such a pleasure to have touched your heart... Xz

Death is a companion for all of us, whether we acknowledge it or not, whether we are aware of it or not, and it's not necessarily a terrible thing. 

Why do people have to die?

To make life important.

A storm approaches. It is still over the horizon, but there is lightning in the air. Are either of them aware of the gathering turbulence? Can they feel the crackle of electricity in the wind? Or are they aware of only the power that they generate between themselves?

The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden. Like wings, they have weight, we feel that weight on our backs, but they are a burden that lifts us. Burdens that allow us to fly...

People say you only live once. But people are as wrong about that as they are about everything.

You love someone, you open yourself up to suffering, that's the sad truth. Maybe they'll break your heart, maybe you'll break their heart and never be able to look at your self in the same way. Those are the risks.

A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we’re pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise. Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life. 

A soulmate is an ongoing connection with another individual that the soul picks up again in various times and places over lifetimes. We are attracted to another person at a soul level not because that person is our unique complement, but because by being with that individual, we are somehow provided with an impetus to become whole ourselves.

Shadow of doubt 

Clouds over my mind 

Make my decision 

I need more time 

Disease in my head 

Feelings toward you 

Skin so soft 

Eyes so blue 

Cloud over my head 

Holds back my luck 

Drained of affection 

I pay for a fuck 

I'd tell you I miss you
But I don't know how.
I've never heard silence this loud.

Imagine there is a bank account that credits your account each morning with $86,400. It carries over no balance from day to day.

Every evening the bank deletes whatever part of the balance you failed to use during the day. What would you do? Draw out every cent, of course?

Each of us has such a bank. It's name is TIME.

Every morning, it credits you with 86,400 seconds.

Every night it writes off as lost, whatever of this you have failed to invest to a good purpose.

It carries over no balance. It allows no over draft. Each day it opens a new account for you. Each night it burns the remains of the day.

If you fail to use the day's deposits, the loss is yours. There is no drawing against "tomorrow."

You must live in the present on today's deposits. Invest it so as to get from it the utmost in health, happiness and success!

The clock is running!! Make the most of today.

To realise the value of ONE YEAR, ask a student who failed a grade.

To realise the value of ONE MONTH, ask a mother who has given birth to a premature baby.

To realise the value of ONE WEEK, ask the editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realise the value of ONE HOUR, ask the lovers who are waiting to meet.

To realise the value of ONE MINUTE, ask a person who just missed a train.

To realise the value of ONE SECOND, ask someone who just avoided an accident.

To realise the value of ONE MILLISECOND, ask the person who won a silver medal at the Olympics.

Treasure every moment that you have! And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with. And remember time waits for no one.

Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why its called the present. 

I thought i was the one protecting you, but I'm  the one who needs protecting. Protecting from what.

Protecting from you. 

You don't have my kind of open heart. 

The definition if insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. 

Well let's go for a different outcome then.

You know when you talk to older couples, who have been in love for 30 or 40 or 50 years. It's always the guy who says I KNEW.

I knew right from the beginning. I'm that guy. I know.

Love throws up everything that it is not...

A tear comes to mind, when I think of you 

And remember the time when our friendship was new. 

A gentle smile centered on your face, 

And I knew that then was the time and place, 

To kiss you, I did and felt a tick back in my heart. 

I thought we'd be forever and never part, 

But now we have come to a fork in the road, 

Where we must no longer carry each other's load, 

Let the burden off our shoulders and not leave a scar, 

For the paths we are taking are very far apart. 

I will remember always the places we went, 

And cherish forever the time we've spent. 

So now is the time where I say goodbye, 

Spend one last minute lost in your eyes. 

As much as I know that we can't stay, 

I hope our paths will cross again some other day....

I hope you know how lucky you are...

We walked it for 414 days, with broken eyes and salted ears, complaining 'bout the weather like we ever had a choice. Through all the noise and self abuse, I waited for my fill of truth. Oh I'm terrified I'll achieve nothing at all

One year ago, I asked my hairdresser to cut off my hair. It was a pre-emptive strike. A few days later I would be admitted to the oncology unit at POW to undergo chemotherapy. Everyone knows that chemo takes your hair. I wanted to take control of what I could before the poison did its damage. But I left the hair salon in tears.

When I was given a cancer diagnosis at the age of 21, sitting in a doctor’s office, the room fell silent for 30 seconds, or maybe it was three minutes. Then I managed to blurt out two questions: Was I going to make it through this? My doctor told me that I was “high risk.” I would need to begin treatment immediately. The second thing I asked was whether I was going to lose my hair.

As I tried to prepare for my first round of chemo, I scoured the Internet, read the pamphlets my doctor had given me and paged through the cancer books that friends and relatives had dropped off at the house. I was still catching up on the basic details of my disease, its treatment and its prognosis. I had no idea how to prepare for the havoc it would wreak on my appearance — the part of the cancer experience that the world can see.

As the Gatorade-red poison made its way into my veins, my body began to morph within the first week. Many of my physical transformations — new surgical scars, drastic weight loss, chronic mouth sores and (maybe worst of all) infertility — were invisible to the world, the silent imprint of disease. With all of these things going on, I was surprised to find myself preoccupied by one of the more temporary side effects of chemo: the impending loss of my hair.

On balance with battling my disease, worrying about hair loss seemed petty. It’s only hair, I kept telling myself. It would grow back. But I couldn’t shake the idea that soon, everywhere I went, baldness would be my dominant (or at least most noticeable) physical trait. When you’re bald, cancer leads. Everything else follows. While much of what a cancer patient experiences is deeply personal, losing your hair is an undeniably public affair.

For the first few weeks after I lost my hair last year, I avoided going out in public. The mirror can be an onerous thing to a cancer patient, and I no longer recognised myself. Maybe I could wait it out behind the shuttered windows of my bedroom, I thought. I wanted to avoid the stares from strangers — even if most of them were just out of curiosity. I never expected cancer to make me so self-conscious.

Chemotherapy is a swift, sure stylist. Seeking inspiration and solidarity, I tried reading popular books about cancer that I found in the self-help section of Berkelouw. Many of the books sought to recast cancer as an empowering experience, even something that could be “sexy” or “cool.” But I couldn’t connect with that kind of upbeat gospel. Maybe it was too soon. I felt unsexy. I felt uncool.

I hid beneath hats and scarves, which I’d built a collection of since getting out of the hospital. But even hats felt like “cancer clothes.”

When she stares at your mouth

Kiss her

When she pushes you or hits you like a dummy cause she thinks shes

Stronger than you

Grab her and don't let go

When she starts cursing at you trying to act all tough,

Kiss her and tell her you love her

When she's quiet,

Ask her whats wrong

When she ignores you,

Give her your attention

When she pulls away,

Pull her back

When you see her at her worst,

Tell her she's beautiful

When you see her start crying,

Just hold her and don't say a word

When you see her walking,

Sneak up and hug her waist from behind

When she's scared,

Protect her

When she steals your favorite hoodie,

Let her keep it and sleep with it for a night

When she teases you,

Tease her back and make her laugh

When she doesn't answer for a long time,

Reassure her that everything is okay

When she looks at you with doubt,

Back yourself up

When she says that she loves you,

She really does more than you can understand

When she grabs at your hands,

Hold her's and play with her fingers

When she bumps into you,

Bump into her back and make her laugh

When she tells you a secret,

Keep it safe and untold

When she looks at you in your eyes,

Don't look away until she does

When she says it's over,

She still wants you to be hers

When she reposts this bulletin,

She wants you to read it

Stay on the phone with her,

Even if she's not saying anything

When she's mad,

Hug her tight and don't let go

When she says she's ok don't believe it,

Talk with her because ten years later she'll remember you

Call her at 12:00am on her birthday,

To tell her you love her

Treat her like she's all that matters to you

Stay up all night with her when she's sick

Watch her favorite movie with her or her favorite show even if you think it's stupid

Give her the world.

Let her wear your clothes

When she's bored and sad,

Hang out with her

Let her know she's important.

Don't talk about other girls around her

Kiss her in the pouring rain

When she runs up to you crying, the first thing you say is:

"Whose ass am I kicking baby?"

You are never too young to be in love, because you are never too young to die.

Love is patient and kind, it is never jealous, love is never boastful or conceited, it is never rude or selfish, it does not take offence, nor is it resentful. Love takes no pleasure in others’ sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope and to endure whatever comes. Love does not come to an end. There are three things in life that will last; faith, hope and love and the greatest of these is love

You know that place between asleep and awake;

That place where you can still remember dreaming?

That's where I will always love you.

T h a t ' s  w h e r e  I  w i l l  b e  w a i t i n g .

Into Thin Air

Where cancer is concerned, it’s safe to say there’s no such thing as good timing. But having a life-threatening disease in your 20s carries a special set of psychological and social challenges. It defies our very definition of what ought to be. Youth and health are supposed to be synonymous. If only I could sue my body for breach of contract with the natural order of things.

Cancer magnifies the in-betweenness of young adulthood: You’re not a child anymore, yet you’re not fully ready to live in the adult world, either. After my diagnosis, as I get sicker, I increasingly rely on my parents to take care of me. But at the same time, I’ve had no choice but to grow up fast. Daunting questions that most of my peers won’t have to consider for many more years have become my urgent, everyday concerns: How will I hold onto health insurance if I’m unable to work? Will I be able to have children? How long will I live?

Even inside the hospital’s oncology ward, being a young adult with cancer can make a person feel like a misfit. I’m usually the youngest patient on the floor. Young adults might just be oncology’s “tweens” — too old for the paediatric cancer floor but equally out of place in an adult oncology unit. I’m not suggesting that it’s worse to be young and sick, but rather that young adults with cancer are a less visible demographic, swept up in the mix of adult cancer statistics.

A 2009 report from the United States Department of Health and Human Services presents a shocking reality: Despite great strides in treatment for most cancer patients, adolescents and young adults ages 15 to 39 have seen little or no improvement in cancer survival rates for decades. The report describes how survival rates have “been hampered because cancer risk and adverse cancer outcomes have been under-recognised in this population.” It points to the fact that health care providers are often not on the lookout for cancer in this age group.

Nine months, eight hospitalisations and seven treatments later, I’m realising that age is an inextricable component of how we experience cancer.

Cancer has forced me to pause my life at a time when my peers are just beginning theirs. For my friends, most of them young adults in their 20s, this is an exciting time as they look forward to starting new jobs, traveling the world, going to parties, dating and finding love, and all the rest of the small and big milestones that are part of early adulthood.

Like my peers, I have yet to fully define who I want to become. But as a young cancer patient, it’s difficult to see ahead when I’m fighting for my life. I don’t know what the future holds. I just know I want to be there.

Last spring, I found out I had Cancer. Before the horror of the news even had time to sink in, I had to absorb a second shock: The chemotherapy treatments that could save my life would also make me infertile.

Leukemia is an emergency, and oncologists are the first responders: They are trained to beat cancer; everything else must take a back seat. It was only after I asked about fertility that the doctors told me about the available options.

This is one of the challenges of being  young with cancer. In many ways, I am still a child myself, relying on my parents to take care of me. But I have an adult disease. Most patients with my type of cancer, a form of acute myeloid leukemia, are long past their childbearing years. While my oncologists are intent on saving my life — and I am forever indebted to them for this — preserving my chance to be a father some day just didn’t seem to be on their radar.

A few days after my diagnosis, I was sitting at the table at home. I should have been savouring my last days before a long hospitalisation, but I was agitated from the fertility drugs. I looked across the table at my mum, and here we were, considering the benefits of freezing sperm. It was awkward territory.

A social worker cautioned me, citing the unforeseeable legal and emotional obstacles that could arise down the road. But how could I plan to have a child with anyone when I didn’t even know if I was going to survive myself? I put off the decision as long as possible, but now a nurse was waiting for my answer, and I had to decide in minutes. With some hesitation, I told them to freeze my sperm.

In most doctors’ offices, it’s hard to know why the stranger next to you is there, but everyone is in this waiting room for the same reason. No one is talking, but everybody seems to be sizing one another up.  I am wearing my uni sweatshirt emblazoned with “Class of 2012,” and I am feeling out of place. I am only in my 20s, with only one thing to do today. And now I  am looking at my shoes.

The timing in all of this, like everything else these days, is out of sequence. But this is my new reality as a young adult with cancer. And although I’m not planning for a child anytime soon, preserving my ability to have children feels like my only lifeline to an uncertain future. All of us are together and alone in this room. Hoping for life.