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Calling All Angels
By: Shauna Zamarripa
When you find out your body is betraying you….again….it’s hard to stomach. It’s hard for you, but it’s also hard for anyone who loves you.
When you get your second cancer diagnosis, it’s like you suddenly morph into Charlie Brown listening to one of his teachers. You can’t hear the words as they fall out of the doctor’s mouth. You don’t want to. And that’s okay. You don’t have to.
They can repeat it.
It’s not the first time they have had to do so for someone else who felt exactly the same way you did.
So, you come to terms with it.
You post it on social media.
You get an outpouring of love and support.
And help.
And suggestions.
From everyone.
From everyone.
And while everyone means well, all of a sudden you feel like your CANCER has CANCER….because you suddenly BECOME this disease…even though you aren’t this disease. Even though this disease doesn’t FUCKING define you…just like it didn’t last time you had it…the last time you beat it.
People will look at you and give you this sorrowful gaze. You can FEEL them feeling sorry for you. And you both love them and hate them for it. You know they mean well. You KNOW they love you and have your best interests at heart, but you are NOT your fucking disease. And you will NOT be defined by it. You refuse to, at the very core of who you are.
After all, you’re still YOU. So why won’t people let you be you after that? You are NOT cancer. So stop thinking you have to be anything other than that.
I’m not faulting a single soul for anything. I’m not. I am greatly appreciative of the love, support and messages I have received, I am. But I want…no…I NEED you to understand something that only myself and a San Antonio icon can help you understand properly.
Louise Locker, “Elf Louise”, gave me exactly what I needed. Probably more than she will ever even know.
In the midst of messages and phone calls, as I was cleaning my house in preparation for treatment, to preserve my (highly debatable) sanity, she messaged me. And out of 180 messages that day, right as I was feeling sorry for myself, I was compelled to open hers. I was glad I did.
We spoke late into the night about SO many things. And we set a date to just sit and chat, the next day. And I put everything else on my agenda aside, because I knew I needed this.
I was right.
And I am eternally glad that I did.
I was nervous. It isn’t every day that you get to meet someone who is a local celebrity. I showered. I put on my makeup, carefully. I MEANT to put on jewelry, but didn’t. I forgot. As I was on my way to her home, I didn’t want to show up empty handed. So I went to HEB, I got her an orchid, some wine and some bread and dip. I wasn’t sure what she liked, so I tried to go with things that just about everyone likes….and was praying I was right.
I get there. I ring the doorbell twice. Finally, after five minutes I realize that didn’t work. So, I knocked. I hear footsteps. My heart JUMPS through my chest as I hear her get closer to the door. She opens it. And instead of a hello, or how are you, she opens her arms and says, “Oh my God, you are SO beautiful.”
Wow.
She thinks I’m beautiful?
I’m astounded.
Immediately, I try and recover and explain that I am so sorry I forgot to wear earrings. Just because I was so excited to meet her.
I recovered okay.
I walk in her home and remember feeling one thing…peace. There is just PEACE here.
She says, “Pick where you want to sit. Anywhere.”
I look around her beautiful home, and I immediately find myself doing my normal (what Jon loving calls) CSI bullshit….”Where will SHE be most comfortable???” I think to myself.
So, as I take in the environment, I look for the ONE chair that has a cat scratch or two, from her companion, Spoon. I zero in. I see it. That’s got to be “her” chair. So I pick the study…for that reason. I sit in the chair opposite of the most cat scratches.
She sits, puts one leg under her, as I often do, and we talk. I also found my leg sneak it’s way underneath the other. I was comfortable. At home. This wasn’t a first date conversation. This was better than that. This was just…wow.
We talk for HOURS.
We talk about EVERYTING. We talk about cancer, we talk about friends, lovers, let downs, inspirations, relationships and how amazed she was about how touched she was shen she read what I wrote when Jonathan Vela died…how she shared that with other people and thought it helped them.
I wanted to screech out in joy, because I was truly flattered. Thankfully, my resting bitch face held my emotion about that….because….wow. I didn’t know I had that much of an impact. I actually almost deleted that post three times, because I didn’t think it did him justice….something else I shared with her that day.
What didn't happen was some other well-meaning soul telling me what I had to do. Just an angel who gave me a few gentle nudges, a ton of positivity and who didn't look at me like I was cancer. Someone who still saw me, and not a sickness.
What didn't happen was some other well-meaning soul telling me what I had to do. Just an angel who gave me a few gentle nudges, a ton of positivity and who didn't look at me like I was cancer. Someone who still saw me, and not a sickness.
I was astounded by being able to meet someone so real, so amazing, so authentic that I was inspired to call my best friend immediately after our meeting. “Wow. Just. Wow.” I said. “That woman is a fucking angel in human skin.” Then I droned on and on about how incredible I thought she was, and how glad I was that I went….right up until my narcoleptic bestie dozed off – okay, I’m totally kidding, but c’mon, it would have been hilarious if he had.
And that’s the thing about cancer, or trauma or whatever. You realize that there are GREAT people out there, which is wonderful…..
But you also realize that there are angels out there too. Louise? Nothing short of an angel that I am blessed to meet and to know.
Find your angels, and let them find you.
Believe in them, and let them believe right back in you.
You won’t be disappointed if you do.
Much love,
Miss Adventures
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