Getting Away From It All

My friend, Amy, is in town.  Those of you who know me well know that a TON of my friends are named Amy, which means, uh, “friend,” so to clarify, this particular friend Amy is the one I’ve known since college, making her one of the first of the Teri’s Amy Collection.  Come to think of it, yes, she was my first friend named Amy.

Amy lives in Chicago, so we don’t often get to see one another, and we stay in touch as most in the modern world do these days, via email and phone calls.  But when a friend has taken up residence in a place like The Land of Lung Junk, it heightens the awareness of distance, and personal visits become almost like a necessity.  I have no regrets for that, actually; Amy and I have been having a delightful time enjoying each other’s company, good food (yes, brother dear, I’m eating!), CHOCOLATE, and basically catching up.

Since Amy is quite the seasoned world traveler, I am enjoying being regaled of her dive trips and music trips and hopes for a Belgian Chocolate excursion.  I don’t travel that much, and when I do, it is seldom to anywhere exotic.  And I don’t think trips to the ER count as exotic.  Maybe that’s just me, but…  Anyway, she’s been to some amazing places.  I confess:  I’m jealous.

Life is challenging, and so often, we want, no, we NEED, to get away from it all.  Even a slight change of scenery for a brief period of time can make all the difference.  I remember some years back, while I was going through my divorce, just needing to get out for a second, and taking a drive on the Natchez Trace Parkway.  The Parkway was maybe 9 miles from my house, and I didn’t drive too terribly far on the 444 miles (maybe like 10 miles), but it was a change of scenery, a change of pace, a minute away from the stress of my regular day.  It made all the difference at that time.

Nowadays, there are lots of times when I would very much like to get away from it all; get away from blood tests and CT scans, away from pain medicine, away from needing a cane and having a handicapped placard (!), away from cancer.  Even in morphine-induced sleep, there is no getting away.  There is no break, not from this relentless lung junk.   There is no moment of NOT having cancer.  I could escape to the most decadent of places, Musha Cay (check it out–and be sure to check out the pricing!), and yet the lung junk would still be with me, selfish tag-a-long!

Depressing, ain’t it?  And then again, I think there IS a way out, my friends, a way to escape even for a few moments.  The way is by spending good time with good people, sharing stories, sharing memories, or making memories.  When we talk together, laugh together, or even cry together, we have that moment of getting away from it all without having gotten away at all.  When we share ourselves, we ease ourselves of the painful burdens even of cancer, because we have dared to share, dared to be vulnerable, dared to let others in, and allowed them to support us in those burdens.

I encourage you to get away from it all as best you can this week.  Me, I’m goin’ back to chatting with Amy and eating chocolate!

Much love,

Teri, the Getting Away From It All Flying Elephant