Since my cancer diagnosis on March 11, I have been depositing “warm and fuzzies” in my “happy” bank account.

I’ve had four months to make these happy deposits as my chemo treatment starts four months and one day after I found out I had cancer.

When I was well and busy with life, I clipped along at a fast pace with a full time demanding career, running a marital household, and parenting. Cancer, by circumstance, is forcing me to slow down and savour the rich moments life has to offer that I was too busy to notice when I was well.

Cancer continues to be my life’s teacher.

I would have rather learned this lesson in other ways. In living with this disease you adapt, and develop a mindset of gratefulness and appreciation for the merry moments of life. These moments pass so quickly when you’re well and not focused on them. You tend to take a lot of things and people for granted.

For me, the happy deposits in my living with cancer bank account started early with learning as much as I could about this disease from my psychosocial oncology social worker, my oncology nurse educators, my cancer surgeon, my medical oncologist, and an array of reading materials issued at medical appointments and online from sites recommended by my caregivers. Easing the fear of dealing with this disease is lessened when I know more about it. There is still so much to learn.

The biggest happy deposits continually come from dozens and dozens of people in my life who call to say they care, send me emails, meet me for coffee, lunch or dinner, and come with me to medical appointments. They have sent me cards, flower arrangements, food baskets, self-care packages, and books to keep my mind busy and distracted. Prayers have been offered from folks known and unknown. All have been appreciated. With each kind gesture, I have savoured the sincerity that came along with it and shed silent tears of joy.

My life has been touched in so many ways with cancer. The kindness and care of others has carried me through many rough moments in accepting that my life will have its difficult moments with cancer treatment, and thereafter. Living with cancer is something survivors tell me you don’t ever forget; you just learn to “park it.”

There have been some lifetime investments in the happy bank account since I was diagnosed with cancer, and others will keep occurring over the summer. Our daughter convocated from university, and had a wedding shower. She and her husband to be are slowly moving into their first apartment, and are getting married. Our son and his partner became excited “house shoppers” and are now eagerly waiting to get the keys to their first home. They will move in the first week of August after the wedding.

Daily, I am placing deposits in the happy bank account by being aware of how my attitude shapes how I deal with this disease. I continue to notice how this attitude influences the attitude of others around me in this cancer journey. I choose to stay positive, not complain, and accept that I am my own health care advocate. I enter into treatment with an educated knowledge that I am in good medical caregiver hands. I know that I can ask caregivers questions when I’m not sure of what to expect. I will get through the rough moments and am not naive to think it will all be easy.

Other smaller daily deposits I am placing into the happy bank account include listening to my music collection that hasn’t been visited for awhile. I am reading and walking in the lovely Manitoba sunshine (we haven’t had a lot of it with all of this rain, but I catch it when I can). I got in my one and only golf game for this year this past Friday. I’m enjoying cups of tea with origins from around the world, visits with my elderly mother in her sunroom, container gardening in our front yard and wrap-around patio. I have joyfully celebrated some family birthdays, our daughter’s wedding dress fittings, playing with baby Jaxon. I am eagerly waiting to hold brand new baby Elijah (born to one of our daughter’s bridesmaids and groomsmen born two days ago). To ease my anxiety I am journaling, and share my thoughts as personal therapy in penning these blogs.

Like other people living with cancer, I am learning more and more each day to focus on the moment and not to think too far into the future. There are still some moments I want to make happen before my chemo starts in two weeks.

I am a Goldeyes baseball fan and have had season’s tickets for a few years. There is just something so satisfying about sitting in a lovely ballpark, nibbling on ballpark food, and watching a game on a lovely summer’s day. I want to get to a home game within the next two weeks, as I don’t know if my energy levels and low immunity concerns will allow me to take in a game when chemo starts.

If my post-port surgery recovery goes well, I might try to sneak in another golf game somewhere where mosquitoes won’t transport me to another planet. There are still some lunches and coffees I’d like to have with an array of friends before treatment starts.

And there is a yard revamp waiting to begin within the next two weeks following the receipt this weekend of the landscape architect’s plan for our yard. I am hopeful that the work for my healing garden can be done in time to beautify the yard for our daughter’s August long weekend wedding.

I also am gleefully waiting to be able to sit in the revamped back yard with a cup of tea. I look forward to enjoying the pure pleasure of reading outside on a peaceful summer’s day to take down my anxiety levels and rest while in treatment throughout the summer and fall.

As I enter into chemo and prepare for the rest and recovery that are required to rebound from treatments, I have several new relaxation CDs I have yet to listen to. Ten new gift books are waiting to be read, seven loaned ones are with them, and there are a few dozen more in a bookshelf I haven’t yet opened. For years I’ve said; “I’ll read when I have time.” Bookstores are one of my weaknesses, cancer gives me more time to read. I am looking forward to it.

For Mother’s Day, my family bought me a portable DVD player to take with me to chemo treatments so that I have a distraction while poison permeates my body. I am in pursuit of old and new comedies. With chemo I want to laugh—I need to laugh to feel the endorphins pulsate in my body from my toes to my head…

In sitting in one of the chemo treatment chairs a couple of weeks ago for my IV orientation, I was able to see what my world will look like for the next six months when I make my monthly treatment appointment. I was also told to bring in a buddy for each treatment, along with snacks and drinks.

The treatment area has overhead tv’s with the news or soap operas (not for me) playing. It looks like there will be room to play cards on the treatment chair’s small arm counter. I will need to dust off the crib board and find a few other small surface card games. Then I’ll have to remember how to play, and make sure that with some of my chemo treatments that my “buddy” is a card player.

It all sounds like a quirky kind of house party that will take place each time I have chemo under the watch of chemo nurses and my medical oncologist. I will put the expression “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade” into practice.

I will continue to place warm and fuzzies into my happy bank account. I will invest in fighting my battle against cancer with Strength, Courage, and Determination.