By: Sarah Bi
On www.cancerfightclub.com
I don’t know why I hadn’t already realized, or at least integrated, that life is a series of challenges, of ups and downs.
I
know all too well that life is not a long string of good times each one
more pleasant than the next. But today I am realizing that it will
never be that way. That there will always be an unpleasant situation to
experience, which is why I feel it’s so important for me to start to
breathe a little more slowly. That even if some situations are harder
than others and I might think I’m currently in the worst of them all, I
am not immune to another even worse one occurring. And I have evidence
to support that ;)
It’s the difference between cancer and
childbirth. Strange comparison, right?! But it’s the one that I was
making in my hospital bed.
When I gave birth, I really thought
that it was the worst pain of my life. That there could be nothing more
painful on earth. But today, I realize that spending 4 days in the ER,
towards the end, starts to resemble the unpleasantness (if we can really
call it an unpleasantness…) of childbirth. And the worst thing, I
think, is to leave with nothing. No little baby, all pink, who comes
home with you, and no oxytocin making you feel so full of love. No, just
fatigue and that feeling of being severely sick of life.
And
today, several months later, as life continues to run its course, and
when my 4-year-old son sometimes brings out the worst in me, I realize
that life is a series of challenges. Sometimes more intense – like
cancer – sometimes a little bit lighter – like the driver who cuts you
off or the flood in your basement or even the tantrum of the little one
who doesn’t want to get dressed. I understand that it does nothing for
me to hope that happiness will arrive, that it does nothing to hope
it’ll stay. No, what I have to do is accept what happens and to try to
find within it a ray of sunshine. Each and every time. And since it is
far from being over, this life… at least, I really hope it is… I’ll go
so far as to say that if one of the potential side effects of my
lifelong medication actually occurs (another cancer…), well, it would
mean that I am still alive… and so that I’d have a ton of rays of
sunshine to find along my path.
And I tell myself that the finish line represents wisdom or old age,
depending how much time cancer will let me live. And today, at 37 years
old, I find myself a little wiser.
We are far from the long quiet river… Fortunately!
Aucun commentaire:
Publier un commentaire