Cancer is a Pain in the Ass ...and So Am I

JK was helping me the other day when I was hooked up to medical devices. The clinic staff were putting various liquids into my IV. I was uncomfortable and needed assistance; JK wanted things to go quickly and smoothly, which they weren't. When I asked her to reach over the tubes and grab my purse, I heard her mutter under her breath, "...pain in the ass!" In an instant, I heard my own angry response, "Okay, I'll do it myself!" For one hot moment, we hated each other.

I wasn't sure if JK meant I was the pain in the ass or if she was referring to the whole crazy cancer mess.

I learned early on to try not to be a pain in the ass -- to stop coughing on command, to be obedient, to agree, accommodate and not rock the boat. Now the lesson I want to learn is that I'm just simply going to be a pain in the ass sometimes. With or without the cancer, I am sometimes a pain in the butt. I want to accept that. I want to resist my reflexive urge to alter who I am. Instead of working so hard -- with JK and others -- to be low-maintenance, agreeable and without flaws, I want to be authentically me. Sometimes I am needy, messy, inconvenient, irritable, tired, unsexy, demanding. I want to learn to live peacefully (and unapologetically!) with these parts of me.