Last weekend was the 2008 Relay for Life. Because I’m kind of a rebellious survivor, I neither wore a survivor shirt, nor participated in the survivor activities. I tried that stuff last year, and man, it about sucked the life right out of me! I mean, sheesh, you go to the survivor dinner and all anybody wants to talk to you about is cancer! And they don’t want to talk about fun stuff like taking your foob mushroom hunting, either. They’re all, “When were you diagnosed?” and when I told them I’d just been diagnosed a couple of months prior they were like, “Oh.” You know, like I wasn’t a real survivor because I hadn’t done anything but had surgery so far. And truth be told, that was kind of how I felt during last year’s survivor parade–like, I hadn’t really survived anything yet. And so, it was just weird for me because it kind of felt like I was parading around like, “Woo hoo! I’ve got the cancer!”
Of course, now that I’ve done four surgeries, chemo, and rads, I’d say I qualify as a legitimate survivor. But I still didn’t want to participate in the survivor activities, and have the life-sucking cancer conversations. Not to mention that the survivor/caregiver dinner was at 4:30. I just can’t be eating supper at 4:30 for at least another 20 years.
So, Hubster and I went out for Mexican at about 9:00. That way I could skip the luminaria ceremony. It weirds me out, too. I know some folks really get into it, but as someone who has been fighting cancer, I have to say that I don’t really need to be reminded that cancer kills people. To that end, a big candlelight ceremony where they read the names of everyone who has ever died of cancer is not a happy place for me. Especially since luminaries can also be bought in honor of folks who are living—so they read those off, too. It’s almost like, “These people died from cancer, and these people are in the queue.” Or at least that’s how it makes me feel. Like I said, plenty of people like that sort of thing. More power to ‘em. It’s just not for me. I’ll be down at Lucio’s scarfing down chips & salsa.
You may recall the drama that unfolded during last year’s Relay involving the silent auction. I’m happy to report that there were no such altercations this time. Maybe that’s because in the aftermath of last year’s rumble, the committee changed the way the silent auction was run, and put it in a separate room where bid sheets could be monitored. Or maybe it was because the purses this year were completely hideous, and I told Susie that the only person she’d be dukin’ with was me if she even thought about bidding on one of those for my benefit. Either way, there was no big scene.