Andrea Coller
It’s hard to really put words to the myriad of emotions I felt when I learned of Andrea Coller’s passing this past week. Mostly, I was angry as hell. She of all people should have been able to beat this.
In so many ways, to so many people, it’s really hard to appreciate the anger and sadness that comes with having such a terrible illness and continual health issues. You live in a world where everyone you know will never fully understand. It’s not their fault or anything. It’s just that, no matter what, they won’t get that you’ll always feel bitter and angry towards the fact that a large chunk of your life was taken away from you for no apparent reason. The reality is, having cancer will never make sense… you’ll never know why you got it, you’ll never know if the treatment is going to work, and you’ll never know if it’s gone for good. The only thing that you can do is ignore that cynicism as much as possible, and live your life.
Living your life gets difficult, though, when you’re faced with constant reminders that cancer as a disease is never going away. You will know other people with cancer; your loved ones, your friends. You’ll watch the news and someone famous will be diagnosed. You’ll be asked to join a support group, donate, walk, etc. You’ll be asked how you’re feeling, and people will judge what you’ve been doing with your life “since your illness”.
It can be a real drag and can make you isolate yourself a bit.
For me, the only person I think I ever really reached out for any kind of cancer-kinship kind of support was Andrea Coller. And it was only because we both were aware that each other existed, really. I talked with her only a few times about it. I think mostly for me, knowing that she was dealing with all of this stuff too, and with a sense of humor and sarcasm about it, was helpful. Her recent essay article in Glamour magazine really exemplifies her spirit while she’s dealing with some pretty brutal experiences. Anyway, it was the way she didn’t want to really do the things that I also didn’t want to do that made me feel at ease, like the touchy-feely support group kind of stuff. Here’s an excerpt from some email correspondence awhile back:
Hi Matt,
Yes, I’ve also heard that we both are in the big-time at PACE _and_ at Dr. Bowers’ office… How ’bout those stem cell transplants, eh? But thankfully, it seems that so far we both have made it out of that particular hell as all right as anyone could…
…Yeah, sometimes I think it would be fun to sit around and trade war stories with other survivors. But most of the time, I practice the fine art of repression. It works out OK, for the most part.
Andrea
For me, just knowing what another survivor is up to, how they are living life, how they, too, just want everything to be ‘normal’ is enough. I don’t need to recall all the details of treatment, hospitals, medical procedures, and how it felt during treament. I try as hard as possible to not ever think about that stuff. And the further out I get, the more the days just melt into each other, and I’m blissfully not as aware that I am a ‘cancer survivor’.
I’m truly devastated to learn of Andrea Coller’s passing. It’s just a very difficult thing to deal with. At the core of all this is the first-hand knowledge of the hospitals and doctors and many of the ugly things that go along with people trying you fix you. But especially, I just know how much of an imprint Andrea’s life made on my life– and I wasn’t very close to her. To lose someone to similar health issues that I have, so far, survived doesn’t seem fair somehow.
When she was playing open mic nights at Fire and Water back when me and Steve Biegner were playing there too as Smokejumpers, she would light up the crowd. Years later, her performances at P.A.C.E. and her open mic night hosting duties made a different crowd adore her.
These are the types of things that trump everything else. She was just a great kind person living her life, who just happened to be dealing with cancer. And I know is that I will truly miss the calm of knowing that she was ‘around’. What it means in my own life, I haven’t quite figured out yet. We’re a compartmentalized group, just like a lot of groups… ‘people who’ve dealt with cancer’, ‘cancer survivors’. But no-one should ever pretend that we all have the same shit to deal with.
To quote her, I guess “…sometimes I think it would be fun to sit around and trade war stories with other survivors. But most of the time, I practice the fine art of repression. It works out OK, for the most part.”
Everyone will miss what you brought to the world, Andrea.
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A moving and honest piece, Matt. I did not know Andrea, but based on your blog post and Andrea’s essay in Glamour, I am sorry I did not.
I’ve only dealt with cancer “scares” in my life so far. Because of those “close calls” I am always drawn to articles about people who have been daignosed with cancer and what they have gone through. Three times I have waited for test results, terrified out of my mind. Three times I have been lucky. My heart goes out to those of you who have had to face the words I never had to hear. My heart breaks for the many people who loved Andrea, and now have to live without her.