This picture is from last week when our mornings were lit by bright, beautiful, cloudy, and hazy skies. I over-edited it because I love playing around with pictures where I can take what was, and make it feel like I felt, and see what my heart saw. I saw these vivid colors in my heart. It was everything in that moment. 

I’m in a kind of dark place right now. I was supposed to have my three-month MRI today which also marks almost one year since that day I was diagnosed with glioblastoma. Everything about that diagnosis day is etched in my heart, and is also blurred. It’s vivid and it’s dull all in one. 

MRIs bring on we call scanxiety. This one took a twist when they called yesterday to cancel it. My insurance did not approve it. What that means going forward I’m not sure, but I’m hoping in the near future it will get approved. Being canceled shot my anxiety off the charts. 

Being at the one-year mark with glioblastoma is exciting and terrifying. I’m happy I’ve made it a year while curious about the future. This is the timeframe they give you for the end of your life. I bought into that time frame in the beginning but I’ve grown in strength and knowledge and refuse to live with an expiration date. Yet on another level I do.

That expiration date has changed my life on every level and it’s made me stronger and tougher, softer and kinder, filled with gratitude, and very interested in living in the present moment. Because that’s all any of us really have. Now I can see the brilliance in an ordinary cloudy sky. What could have taught me that better than a terminal cancer diagnosis?

Ribbons of love ~💜 ~ Pam