I have two things to offer for consideration. If you have ten honest moments to do nothing but wonder/ponder/philosophize. I know, on one hand you want to say Of course! who doesn't have ten minutes to just think?? But it's hard to find time just to meditate or contemplate in this hectic world, isn't it?
Anyway, query one:
Imagine that you're me and you've got about two years of "hard" ahead. No sugar-coating, chemo is difficult, saddening, painful; it sucks sucks sucks. However, there are the nebulous but likely silver linings: new appreciations, new clarities, new friends. So, what if doctors could put you in a coma for the duration of your treatment? You would sleep peacefully until March 2008 and wake up, weak but cancer and chemo free. Would you take the coma or the experience? (Not that I'm offered any such option, but it was something Evelyn and I were discussing the other day and I am curious what other people honestly would do.)
Numero Dos:
Remember back to when you were nine-years-old. You were probably in the 2nd or 3rd grade. Can you remember what you did for your ninth birthday or what you wanted for presents? I probably wanted some specific game or something for my bike or markers or something. Imagine a nine-year-old boy who, of his own idea and volition, asked his parents if he could request of his friends not to bring him presents to his birthday party, but to instead give a small donation to his "friend" who has leukemia. He composed a little letter explaining his wish and enclosed it with his colorful party invitations. And, after all his guests had left his pool party, when asked what his favorite part of the day had been, he said that it had been knowing that he helped someone else. I was/am still in such awe and admiration for Robert, Bess' little brother, and these actions he surprised me with a few weeks ago. I just wonder if even my current consideration of others could hold a candle; I know I wasn't that selfless at nine. Thought you might like to hear that story and ponder too.
Thank you Robert and all your good-hearted friends!!
Friday, June 23, 2006
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2 comments:
Erica,
I think Anai said it really wonderfully. Way too much can happen in two years. The hard, difficult, awful stuff makes us stronger. That's two years og getting stronger. (Physically weaker, yes; but spiritually stronger.) (Whenever I read a new blog entry of yours, I can feel your strength. Even when you talk about how difficult things are--I can sense the strength in your words.) (I just started to think about your post on meditation and how right on it was. That's a total tangent. Back to your question.) (Erica, oh my god, I am so unfocused right now. I'm sorry.) (But Anai totally expressed how I feel really eloquently and I'm trying to say it as eloquently, but differently, and, wait, okay--)
Do you watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer musical? Have you seen the musical episode? Buffy sings this song at the end where she goes: "I touch the fire and it freezes me. I look into and it's black. Why can't I feel? My skin should crack and peel. I want the fire back..." and I kind of feel like those lyrics...if one COULD choose between difficult chemo or two years of coma, they would wake up and feel like what Buffy's talking about in the above lyrics--by missing out on the pain, you also miss out on the pleasure--
At the end of the song, everyone joins in and they're like: "we are caught in the fire, the point of no return. So we will walk through the fire and let it burn. Let it burn. Let it burn." All of this is to say I think I would choose the coma-free chemo.
Honestly, I think I would be too afraid of the things I would miss in the next two years.
I'm sorry this comment is so rambly and unfocused.
Bess' brother is awesome. That is SO rockstar.
Oh, and when Adam mentioned the "would you rather" game, it reminded me of the best "would you rather" anyone has ever asked me, but it's so dirty I am afraid to post it on a comment thread. It's really super dirty. But I think you would totally appreciate it because it's also pretty freaking hilarious. I'll ask you the incredibly dirty "would you rather" one of these days.
Love always,
e
Erica!!!! I know my first reaction would be to choose a coma because it would be the easier route. But, my grandma told me "sometimes the best view can only be seen by taking the hardest road" and I think this junction could lead to such a road. Life is all about relationships and experiences and when you're in a coma - you get neither and your friends/family miss out too.
Thank you for sharing your experience with such insight, humility, strength and passion. I am obviously not the only one that comes to this page to get updated but always leaves inspired.
BTW, Robert is the MAN!!!!
Much love,
Jeremy Castro
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