Ending and Beginning

The Ending
I finished a book yesterday. First time I've finished a book in two months. Yeah, I know, I've been busy with brain surgeries and other things keeping me busy, but I still want to tell you about this book: Nation by Terry Pratchett. The blurb on the back of the book:

"When a giant wave destroys his village, Mau is the only one left. Daphne—a traveler from the other side of the globe—is the sole survivor of a shipwreck. Separated by language and customs, the two are united by catastrophe. Slowly, they are joined by other refugees. And as they struggle to protect the small band, Mau and Daphne defy ancestral spirits, challenge death himself, and uncover a long-hidden secret that literally turns the world upside down."

Full disclosure: This was a re-read. So I knew what it was about, and kind of remembered what happened in the end. I have to say, though, that I was a little disappointed in myself because it took me almost two months to finish reading this book. In the end, it was a good book for me to read. The protagonist has a very bad thing happen to him, and the rest of the book was about him figuring out how to cope with this very bad thing that happened to him.

Admittedly, I can't say that I've been through the same bad thing as this character; however, going through his process helped me to go through my own coping process. In the novel, the character Daphne says,

"People need time to deal with the now before it runs away and becomes the then. And what they need most of all is nothing much happening" (Pratchett 134). 

This just spoke to me, because at some point I feel like I was trying to rush myself through the process of coping with my diagnosis. So many people have been telling me how strong I've been, and I rarely feel like I'm being strong. Maybe with more time, I will actually feel like I'm being strong, but for now, I really just feel like I haven't had enough time to process. Luckily, I have time to keep on processing this.

Some of you may have noticed that my sense of humor has remained as inappropriate and immature as ever. I crack jokes about the hole in my head, and I have shown plenty of people my brainhole (I'll tell you more about that later). Earlier in the novel, Mau says that

"sometimes you laugh because you’ve got no more room for crying... [and] sometimes you laugh because you’re alive" (Pratchett 86). 

My rule about no crying or making sad noises comes down to exactly this. I have plenty of room for sadness and grief in my life. I don't have room in my heart for anyone else's grief. What I need is for the people in my life to share joy, silliness, and laughter, even (especially) when it is difficult to get past the C-word. I have plenty of  my own tears somewhere in here, but I have no room for crying right now. I have to be strong, and I have to be positive.

This book was excellent. It was exactly what I didn't know I needed. Read this book.

The Beginning

Tomorrow, I start chemo and radiation again. I won't lie: I'm a little worried. I got through two days of chemo and radiation and it suuuuuuuucked. I am not excited about going back into that, but the thing is, there are very few things about having cancer to be excited about. So, instead of thinking about that, I'll tell you that I'm excited to read my next book. What book shall I read next?