Exploring the American Wilderness and Other Adventures

Mill Creek Recreation Area, Walla Walla, Washington

Coeur d’Alene, Idaho -> Walla Walla, Washington: 134 miles

Listening to: The Revivalists

Hike: Mill Creek Recreation Area (Mill Creek Recreation Trail to Mill Creek Dam, Bennington Lake Trail, Whitetail Trail)

Lodging: The Finch

Dinner: Phoumy Thai Cuisine (Tofu Pad Thai)

…..

I often feel left out, isolated, and angry when I hear people talk about The Cancer Journey. That phrase is often used by the author to refer to the “journey” from getting sick to entering remission. As a person who will never be in remission, who does not ever forget that if I don’t die FROM this, I will die WITH it… I forget where that thought was intended to go…

I think for some of us – those with chronic and/or terminal illnesses, those who live and will die with what ails them, maybe it IS a journey, but the journey is different – and less easy to be summarized in a comforting anecdote, so we just don’t. 

As I drove today, I considered how much anxiety I have had the last week in preparation for today. The first day of my first solo road trip since I’ve been sick. The first day of my longest vacation ever. It is hard to remember who I used to be – the girl who was never afraid of any path I was on, and being alone only provoked more adventure and courage. And it is hard to remember I was that person only a couple of years ago. 

I had a profound intersection of life-changing events. My children became adults, so the demands on my time and income decreased drastically. My years of dreaming about officially being a dirt bag on the Pacific Crest Trail were in sight! Then, the world was deeply impacted by Covid and my plans were justifiably put on pause. During the pandemic, I decided to get married to Barbarian Scientist, who, although he does not have the same PCT dream, he supports me and is hopelessly devoted to helping me be where I need to be. And as we all settled into the new normal and considered life on the other side of Covid, cancer crushed us. Cancer crushed me. 

It cannot be that simple, though. Crying in pain that cannot be relieved, crying in anger, crying in the deepest despair, I fantasize about ending it all for myself. But, I know the statistics of how my children will be impacted if they have a parent who dies by suicide. That fact alone has gotten me through more days than I think any reader here would like to know. 

So. Crushed. And figuring out how to move forward because this is not only about me, even though it’s my body that is making it happen and I’m the one who has to feel every single thing. 

I think THAT is The Cancer Journey for me. I think it’s being both of those people – the one who could end it all and the one who would never hurt her children like that – and more! I’m not only those two people. I’m also the person who is inclined to do very dangerous things because why not? And I’m the person who is fervently preparing every part of the life I share with Barbarian Scientist so that when I pass, it might be easier for him to manage the affairs of our shared life. I think The Cancer Journey is learning about all the versions of yourself, finding the scary parts, the ugly parts, the loving parts, the vulnerable parts, and being forced to do something with it or stay crushed. 

During my last appointment with my oncologist, he told me my only job in life now is to do what I need to do to feel happiness. That’s it. While crushed, my only job is to do what I need to do to feel happiness. 

Fuck this journey. Except… it’s not that simple. Nothing is that simple. 

Driving today, thinking about these things, I drove by what appeared to be a head-on collision between two semi-trucks. There’s no way things turned out well. Were those individuals involved in that crash living lives where they are told their only job is to do what they need to do to feel happiness? Why is that a topic only when there is nothing left for us to do? 

I don’t know what I think until I hike about it. I arrived in Walla Walla as planned and immediately put my feet on a trail. I thought about how many times I wanted to turn the car around and go back home. I thought about my last oncology appointment. I thought about the previous 100 oncology appointments. I thought about those truckers and what appeared to be a devastating and life-altering event. I thought about all the versions of myself that I am. I thought about how crushed I am and how I know there is no shame in that, and that I could even stay crushed and the world would validate it on my behalf. I thought about my billions of memories with my children, my memories of falling in love with Barbarian Scientist, my memories of all the wild places I have put my feet and left pieces of my heart. I may have lived more than many many people. I can stay exactly where I am, crushed, and will still have lived an incredible life.

I don’t know what I think until I hike about it. I still didn’t know what I really thought, so I kept hiking. And I now know this: I do not want to be a shrinking flesh suit of memories. I want to be a reminder and a symbol that there is more to see. I do not want cancer to crush me. 

Again, it’s not that simple. But I think for today it’s enough to keep me moving forward, with all the versions of myself and with cancer. I will make my next destination tomorrow and show you another beautiful place and remind you that there is more to see. 

Mill Creek Recreation Area was much more than I expected. I layered a few AllTrails maps for the area to build an almost 9-mile hike. The trail system begins with a paved trail along the creek, then when you cross the dam you find rolling hills parallel to farmland, with single and double tracks for hikers, horses, and bikes. The area is completely exposed right now, but once trees are blooming there will be several groves to find shelter from the sun. I felt like it was a little bit of everything that you can find in Eastern Washington and it was easy to be lost in my thoughts and just keep going. The highlight, though, was coming upon a Great Blue Heron. It was so beautiful. I’m not a wildlife photographer in any way, but at that moment I wished I was.