Thing are Moving in the Right Direction (AKA to NM OFA: TAMITRD).

To-do. To-do. To-do.

I can’t stop “to-doing.” In fact, this unrelenting compulsion “to do” more was the subject of my personal statement for grad school, which led, ironically, to me doing something else. I was accepted to only 1 school, granted it was my dream school: NYU. But the timing was off and it was time to do something bigger and better (the Obama campaign), and when I go back to school, maybe I will be able to go somewhere bigger and better (no offense to NYU, of course). Point is, there is just no end to the madness – I’m only 23, but I’m not sure if there is a point at which I’ll ever be content or satiated.

Even through these last 6 months or so of treatments the “to-do” lists don’t cease to exist. I will dig to the deepest recesses of my brain to make a new and daily check list filling my pretty yellow legal pads from top to bottom. I want to be honest. It’s an obsession. What will I do today? What will I do next? Where will I go? Am I making the right decision? Should I go back to school now? Should I travel and only contemplate coming back? Will I be happy? Will I regret? And then, as I put my cup of Jasmine Green down and look up at the waving palm trees, the hibiscus and plumerias, the rippling water and the Buddha statue staring me in the face, a thought hits me: “RE-FUCKING-LAX, JACLYN!” If there is anything you should have learned from this process, it should have been to slow down and focus on the present, to forget about what I could be doing if I wasn’t fighting cancer, to forget about trying to measure my worth in what I could have maybe accomplished by the ripe, old age of 24.

Well, I’m working on chilling out. I swear it! Or maybe relaxing just isn’t for me. Some of you may think this train of thought sounds a tad melodramatic considering my initially optimistic diagnosis, but let me explain.

I haven’t spoken much, if at all, about the presidential campaign I worked on after graduating college until the election on November 4th, 2008. I was diagnosed exactly one week after that triumph, while still in New Mexico, the state I last worked in. Prior to New Mexico, I worked in California, Texas, and Illinois (at the national campaign HQ). I learned more than I ever could have expected, more about myself and more about the importance of a properly functioning team or network or lattice-structure of support, whatever you want to call it. So, after receiving training at one of the first of so many Camp Obama’s and after helping, in my own way, to put on several more of these during the campaign, I’m pretty sure I learned that one of the most basic building blocks for a structure with a common purpose and a reason for forward movement is “the story of self.” That is, to tell your neighbor, friend, family member, or the person whose door you just knocked on what personal position or change in circumstance led you to support the candidate. In the end, the listener should understand that your reasons are not uncommon. Because chances are that they aren’t. It’s a tried and true strategy – and it worked.

Well, now let me back up here. I mentioned earlier that I helped at these Camp Obama trainings “in my own way.” What I meant was that I did what was asked of me (document production, set up, take down, coffee runs, etc.), as long as I didn’t have to give any presentations to the crowd, big or small. The reason being twofold: 1) I get stage fright that I’m sure beta-blockers coulnd’t cure, and 2) I didn’t want to take the chance of having to tell my story of self, given that after several months on the campaign, no amount of mental digging could help me produce one. I was convinced that supporting Barack Obama was a gut feeling and the need for change – the choice was simple.

Anyways, this silly and overly emphatic fear of telling my story was only magnified when the trainer would say, “It’s always you folks who think you don’t have a story..You’re the ones with the best stories.” It’s true, too. I remember one woman in Chicago claimed she had no story, then brought nearly the whole room to tears nearly 15 minutes later. And there’s me sitting on the sidelines thinking, What the hell?? I seriously don’t have one, damnit!

When I knocked on doors, I would get serious anxiety as the doorbell rang and I awaited who I hoped would be a potential supporter. Okay, voter. Please don’t argue with me or ask why I personally support Barack Obama. I was sure I would forget the talking points and only think to say, “Ummm..Because I have a fully functioning brain and heart that occasionally work in tandem? Is that an okay answer for you? I hope so…goodbye.” You get the picture.

Fast-forward to late 2008 and the campaign is almost over. I’m in New Mexico. I won’t over-dramatize this because shit happened and there wasn’t much time to deal with or think about it, unless it had to do with winning. I’m also desperately trying to get to the point of this never-ending blogpost. Well, more or less in this order, here it is…I recieved a call from a family member, “Your dad is in trouble and he’s losing his job.” I got an anonymous email from a concerned citizen that said among other things, “Just letting you know that your dad is losing his house.” Oh, by the way, the grandfather you never met just died of cancer. And guess what? You’ve got it too.

I’m not saying all this to gain pity. I’m not tearing up while writing this. I’m simply thinking about what I’ve been thinking about since very shortly after the campaign ended: SO WHOSE GOT A STORY NOW, HUH?! We all have one. In retrospect, I’m realizing that while I began working working on the campaign based on that “gut” feeling, while I thought I was fighting for those less fortunate than myself, for ordinary men and women, it turned out that I was actually fighting for myself and for my family. It turns out that, in many ways, I am just like everyone else, an ordinary person with not so uncommon problems. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with less remote concerns about the economy, unemployment, the housing crisis, and more importantly, my health and health care.

I’m currently getting to the other side of some of my own hurdles and working on others, but all in all, that’s my story. It’s been over a year in the making, with 23 years of building and being born into that lattice-structure of support to help me deal with all the bullshit and all the good shit. You know what? My point, if there is to be one, is that I guarantee you’ve got that structre there too, so use it. Simple as that.

And lastly, after 3 misdiagnoses, I was lucky to have caught my cancer before it spread, as the data on survival rates for sarcoma is tenuous, at best. It’s just too rare for great data. I was also lucky enough to have the best doctors at UCLA. But as of August 17th, 2009, I’m done and I’ve won!! As far as I’m concerned, I’ve beat you, you piece-of-shit stupid cancer. I can only help that I have helped others learn something about this thing in the process.

TO DO: CELEBRATE!! August 22nd, be there.