A Past That's Hard to Shake

It's probably about 8pm here in Denver where I've posted up for the evening in a downtown hotel. The sound of the wall-mounted air conditioner is the only thing between me and silence now, though I doubt my mind would provide such quiet on this particular evening. I've pulled the thin curtain allowing in just enough of the city lights to remind me there is in fact a city out there. It's the kind of day where you pray for a distraction. I've never been much for anniversaries, but this one doesn't want to let me chose. It was this day last year, when the phone rang and the news was bad. This day that the doctor dug up my hip bone to find the cells were so densely packed he wouldn't be getting a good bone marrow biopsy, not that he would need one to know there was a battle ahead of me. Plane flights were booked, the parents, the girlfriend, the sister, the management, the record company, the publicist one by one arrived as the week wore on. Together we grieved, planned and tried to find peace as we awaited the news. It was hard to watch how much it affected everyone when the came through the door of that hospital room for the first time. It was hard to be the one sitting there knowing I would be spending so much time in rooms like it in the months to follow. These memories can be so overwhelming. Most days they come quickly, like a downpour in the tropics or something, but today I must admit I'm haunted. I hate that this post may come across as dark or disqualifying to the hope that has arisen from the events of my illness, but the reality is that today I feel more human than ever. And while I'm so thankful for every moment I am alive, I have to admit that at this second I feel more vulnerable to the world around me than I could ever put into words. It is an intense thing to feel so connected to the ground I am walking on and still feel so temporary. These things pass though and at this moment all I can do is feel gratitude for the fact that I am still here and that I have met so many amazing people along the way. Either way the distraction I prayed for just arrived in the form of a club sandwhich and fries, so I think I'll call it a night...A very long and perplexing night :)

Comments

[katie]

Andrew,
i think it is great that you are still here a year later to tell us about your first time going in to the hospital and what you went thru. it is the best thing that could probably happen to you instead of being here with us today. i have faith in you that you will be here for a long long time cause your time on this earth is not at all close to be finished. we all love you, well i know i do and i want you to know that you have inspired me to be greatful for everyday i have and everyone i have and also to write more songs and poems. your me hero and my savier.

[Jaclyn]

Wow Andrew, you never cease to amaze me with how you can describe your feelings in writing. Although I'm just a fan and am far from all of your personal problems, I still feel so close to the issues because of the way you write. Anyways, I can't believe it has been a year, time sure does fly. Have a great tour, I can't wait to see you in St.Louis in July!

[Holly]

Hang in there Andrew, we all love you!

[Rob DeMeritt]

Wow...that really showed the struggles you go through. But just remember everyone struggles(maybe not as much as others) and everyone feels like it's too much sometimes. But I just ask that you keep in mind how many lives you're changing, including mine, and that hundreds of kids would be lost if it wasn't for you. Don't take this as overly cheesy please, it's just the way I see it and good luck with the future...Thanks for the amazing music.
-Rob

[Caiti]

I really don't know what to say other than I thank God every day for the things he does.

all my love,
caiti

[Meg Leach]

I have to say I can identify with everything about this post. A day does not go by when I do not think of cancer. It seems every little thing in my day to day life provides some memory of what happened to me when I was twenty one and in a way continues to happen. Being in remission is a wonderful feeling, but you can never shut your mind off to the things you went through.

It is not fair or necessary that anyone ever becomes diagnosed with cancer, but unfortunately it is part of the world we live in. Sometimes I find myself having a conversation with someone and I will say something along the lines of, oh yeah I remember this or that from chemo or radiation. I am sure it gets old for other people to hear about it, yet again it is impossible to shut my brain off.

Anniversaries have never been that relevant in my life and now I find myself being more than aware of every single one of them related to my cancer diagnosis and treatment.

I have to say I am extremely thankful for survivors like Andrew, because he was someone I could relate to while going through my own treatment. To see him now onstage, as I did the other night meant so much to me because we are both living and breathing in the air I think we all take for granted.

Meg Leach

[amber]

andrew, great post. good luck with the tour & everything else going on in your busy life. we love you!

[Cassandra]

Your terrible anniversary and mine are eerily close together. May is just a bad month in general for me, I think.

In January 2004 my mom was diagnosed with cancer, and on my 18th birthday, May 7, of that same year she went into the hospital because she was too sick to take care of herself, or for us to take care of her anymore. My prom was one week later and although all of my family was down to see my mom, having to take all my pictures with them on the Palliative Care Unit floor of the hospital (and not being able to take any with my mom -- she refused to be photographed since the chemo had made her lose her hair, not to mention that she looked like death) was even more depressing. A little over two weeks after that, on May 30, she died. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, one of those days when you know summer is coming. (I live in Ontario.)

So a few days ago it was two years. I know it's very different from you since you actually experienced all of it, but I definitely feel a connection to you because of it; something separate from your music and celebrity.

On May 26 of this year, my brother and I and some of our friends participated in the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay for Life. We walked all night around the football field, the luminaries of hundreds -- maybe thousands -- of cancer victims and survivors alike lining the track. We didn't think to buy one in honour of you, but next year we will. Our event raised $127,000 and although it's not a lot in the big picture, hopefully other events every year raising that much will one day be enough to find a cure. Our money isn't going to bring back my mother, but it made me feel good to be helping other people even a little bit.

The past is hard to shake ... but maybe we're not supposed to shake it. Maybe we're just supposed to live with it, and use it to better ourselves and others.

Here's to decades more of these sad anniversaries. Maybe they won't be so sad then.

[Anne]

like a pheonix you rose from the ashes

[Dini]

So happy you're still here =)

[Meg G]

You are an amazing person, and an amazing writer. I write poetry and songs, and your lyrics inspire me. You are probably one of the most beautiful people I've ever known of. It's so motivational that you've been through so much, and had to endure it in front of your fans and the nation. I think it's amazing that you've fought and are still fighting it. I would love to get to know you personally, even though that's not really possible. But I just think you should know that you're an incredible human being, and I love you and your music.

<3

[Donna]

Thank you for sharing your life with us so openly and honestly.We love you
especially me ;x

[liz]

Andrew-
Your story gives me great inspiration. One of my good friends, who I have known since kindergarten, was diagnosed with cancer last September. It is easier to understand when a grandparent has cancer, but when your 16 year old friend is going through intense chemo, it is unbelievable. She is hanging in there strong and just finished her last 48 hour chemo. Hopefully, like you, by her one year anniversary she will be back at school, the place that she misses terribly.
Keep going strong and have a blast on the tour.

[jessika]

what an insane year.
i don't know why but the song i am listening to now made me think of you
its "yesterdays feelings" by the used.
it kinda goes along with the blog.
i think this one is actually my favorite.
i can remember exactly the time,day,where i was going/where i came from, what i was wearing, the scents, the sights everything from that day that changed your life forever.
i don't even know you( but i did meet you once) but i have been a fan of both your projects for a while since jm pracically began. the one time i met you i think you were just about the nicest person i ever met. you were saying about how you hoped that you could sing b.c your throat hurt and you had a bad case of laryngitis.

sorry if this came off as stalker creepy but i didn't mean for it too.

i need to go study for an english final now..

<3jess

[sara]

<3

[Sarah G]

Don't apologize for this entry.
Things like this need to come out, and you write about them so fluidly that anyone could empathize.

[Meghan]

I've never posted a comment, infact this is my first visit to the blog. Just wanted to say that I'm really excited about Jack's Mannequin, and I'm glad you're doing well. Anniversaries can be a bitch (mine is dec.20th)but congrats to you for all you've made it through and done. Hope to see you guys play a show in the twin cities sometime soon!

[jimmy]

don't worry about it man your a fighter. youve got to stick around as long as you can because from what ive read in this blog you seem like a real cool guy, a lot more down to earth than most of the people you see on MTV. besides you gotta keep puttin out that kickass music. im starting to do some writing now and your music and your story are a great inspiration to me. im gettin all my buddies together and were going to your concert next thursday and were so pumped. see you then. - jimmy

[Laurie]

I was one of those fans who waited five hours in that crazy monsoon at Summerfest to see you and let me tell you, it was worth it! Through hail and high water, we guarded our little spot on the picnic table just to see your beautiful soul on that stage. The concert was amazing, but the most incredible thing I heard that night was that you were about to take your last pill. God bless you, your strength and your amazing gift. Lots of love! ~Laurie

P.S. ;) I was so glad to hear you play Cavanaugh Park, which is not only my favorite Something Corporate song, but the very first one I ever heard. That was surreal!

[Meg]

As I was reading through the post, I couldn't help but notice that you were experiencing what was probably the scariest moment in your life, and I was out enjoying the day because it was my birthday. Strange how some people can live in two opposite worlds and realities.

[Libby]

I know that this entry is old, but it's been a while since I've had the chance to check your blog. I'm glad that I did read it today though.

It always amazes me how open and honest you are here. There are so many people out there who do your job who refuse to connect to their fanbase on such a personal level. They never let the people who care about what they do in on their humanity, and you do. I think that's one reason why I love your music so much and why I have such a tremendous amount of respect for you, Andrew.

I know you said in your next entry that you felt irresponsible for writing this one, but I'm glad that you did. I'm sorry you were having such a bad night, but the fact that you came on here and told us about it is amazing to me.

I love knowing that the musicians I care about are real. It makes the music mean just that much more to me, and I think that it takes far more courage to admit things such as vulnerability than it does to be "strong" and keep it together inside.

By the way... something a little random that I just wanted you to know: its your flaws and imperfections, scars, baggage and everything you've been through that makes you beautiful. At least to me. I mean... if you hadn't had all of that shit happen, you wouldn't be who you are, and I think the world would be missing something if you weren't here.

[Victoria]

You're inspiring.

[fellow survivor]

I know this comes a little late, but from a fellow survivor, you have every right to feel this way. Anniversaries have a way of holding on to your thoughts and that's something that persists, though the power lessens as time passes.
What you went through, what you survived and experienced, would haunt anybody. Take the time to be kind to your self, to allow that grieving. Know that you may be transported back to the time and emotions of that day. Try to keep reminding yourself that you are not there, you are here. And when you are ready, find a way that feels right to you to enjoy the day and what you are able to do now that you couldn't do then.
But please don't ever apologize for how you feel, and know there are a million survivors out there you have felt just like you before.