A Swift Kick in the Pants
Just yesterday, I thought about taking a break from writing. And by break, I mean a break for myself where I don't actively improve any piece I've already started. My break then, would not include the writing down of any new ideas...that would be a completely ludicrous thing to do. But once the new idea jumped from my head to the page, I'd back away from doing anything with it.
Part of my reasoning with respect to this break is that I'm feeling many things right now: overwhelmed by my four jobs (teaching, parenting, editing, and writing); crabby that the weather is so bad; frustrated that I'm still not back to running; tired from the long winter. Yes, in short, I'm a complete mess at times, although I think I've been holding myself together pretty well. And a few days I ago, I wallowed in those feelings of being overwhelmed.
I knew I wouldn't wallow long, that I shouldn't wallow long, but I wasn't sure what would snap me out of the funk.
Well, the universe sent me a message today, in the form of a Caring Bridge update. You see, I have a friend who lost her right eye in March 2009 to ocular melanoma, which is a rare (and aggressive) form of cancer. According to one of her updates way back then, "There is no cure for this cancer, and few treatments which may extend life, most of which are still in clinical trial phase. Without treatment, median life expectancy is about 6 months. With treatment, it is about 2 years or so, but there is a bit of variation, with a very few patients making it 4 or more years." Those words are depressing, but I want you to realize that here we are, almost to March 2015, and she's still with us.
Her time hasn't been easy. Since that initial diagnosis, she's battled tumors strewn throughout her body, undergone treatment to try to eradicate the tumors, and juggled her treatment schedule with her home life. Yes, that's right, she has three thriving children.
When I received the update today, I knew in my gut what it might say, and her chosen title says it all: "More progression, and harder treatment." Sadly, more progression means the tumors in her liver are growing, and that she still has tumors riddling the rest of her body. If anyone can wallow in a situation, it would be this lady. And yet, she's not.
My friend wrapped up the summary of her life right now in this way:
"I certainly wish the cancer were not progressing along like this, but I'm oddly at peace with where things stand. I feel like the kids are as taken care of as I can, I've got the help I need to rest as much as my body will allow, and I'm able to focus my time and attention where I want to, rather than where I must (other than treatments). The fiddle that is being built for me (and U) is coming along nicely, and I'm so excited about that. J provides a daily dose of giggles with her clever jokes, and U's progress with math and science is amazing. A is happy and stable. That said, there is always the big question mark hanging over my head as to how long and when things will take the 'big' turn for the worse. I can usually avert my eyes, but the bigger the tumors get, the harder that question mark is to ignore. But, in the mean time, back to trying to sleep (in spite of the pain med's best intention to keep me awake) and see what tomorrow brings!"
Incredible. Amazing. A message full of hope that tomorrow might bring something different.
I might still take my break from writing, but I certainly won't be feeling bad about anything that's going on in my life right now. If my friend can stay strong in the midst of personal chaos like that, I can accept the challenge to do so myself. Sometimes a swift kick in the pants comes in the most unexpected ways.
Part of my reasoning with respect to this break is that I'm feeling many things right now: overwhelmed by my four jobs (teaching, parenting, editing, and writing); crabby that the weather is so bad; frustrated that I'm still not back to running; tired from the long winter. Yes, in short, I'm a complete mess at times, although I think I've been holding myself together pretty well. And a few days I ago, I wallowed in those feelings of being overwhelmed.
I knew I wouldn't wallow long, that I shouldn't wallow long, but I wasn't sure what would snap me out of the funk.
Well, the universe sent me a message today, in the form of a Caring Bridge update. You see, I have a friend who lost her right eye in March 2009 to ocular melanoma, which is a rare (and aggressive) form of cancer. According to one of her updates way back then, "There is no cure for this cancer, and few treatments which may extend life, most of which are still in clinical trial phase. Without treatment, median life expectancy is about 6 months. With treatment, it is about 2 years or so, but there is a bit of variation, with a very few patients making it 4 or more years." Those words are depressing, but I want you to realize that here we are, almost to March 2015, and she's still with us.
Her time hasn't been easy. Since that initial diagnosis, she's battled tumors strewn throughout her body, undergone treatment to try to eradicate the tumors, and juggled her treatment schedule with her home life. Yes, that's right, she has three thriving children.
When I received the update today, I knew in my gut what it might say, and her chosen title says it all: "More progression, and harder treatment." Sadly, more progression means the tumors in her liver are growing, and that she still has tumors riddling the rest of her body. If anyone can wallow in a situation, it would be this lady. And yet, she's not.
My friend wrapped up the summary of her life right now in this way:
"I certainly wish the cancer were not progressing along like this, but I'm oddly at peace with where things stand. I feel like the kids are as taken care of as I can, I've got the help I need to rest as much as my body will allow, and I'm able to focus my time and attention where I want to, rather than where I must (other than treatments). The fiddle that is being built for me (and U) is coming along nicely, and I'm so excited about that. J provides a daily dose of giggles with her clever jokes, and U's progress with math and science is amazing. A is happy and stable. That said, there is always the big question mark hanging over my head as to how long and when things will take the 'big' turn for the worse. I can usually avert my eyes, but the bigger the tumors get, the harder that question mark is to ignore. But, in the mean time, back to trying to sleep (in spite of the pain med's best intention to keep me awake) and see what tomorrow brings!"
Incredible. Amazing. A message full of hope that tomorrow might bring something different.
I might still take my break from writing, but I certainly won't be feeling bad about anything that's going on in my life right now. If my friend can stay strong in the midst of personal chaos like that, I can accept the challenge to do so myself. Sometimes a swift kick in the pants comes in the most unexpected ways.
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