September 14, 2013


Cancer is ugly.

My grandson lost his loving, supportive step-dad to it.

Dear friends have succumbed to it while other friends and family have fought the fight or are fighting it now.

I know that when I got a recent call, and was told that someone I dearly love has cancer,  I was totally paralyzed. I sat dazed, afraid and crying.

All that happened is that I heard someone HAS it. I wasn't the one receiving the diagnosis.

What happens to the person being told?  How do they continue to breathe? Do the words, "you have cancer" paralyze you? Do you want to reach across the desk, slap the doctor and call him LIAR!

To protect those close to you from the fear, do you ease the pain for them with a little white lie, "it's just pre-cancerous!"  Do you tell them the truth?

If you tell them the truth, does it make it too real for you.  Can you sit in denial as long as you don't verbalize it.

To state "I have cancer" must overwhelm one's heart and soul. To tell someone you love, knowing  your announcement is going to cause them pain, again, must overwhelm.

When the additional tests come back and the "all clear" is given, do you fully rejoice or is there a part of you that sits in doubt? Do you feel like the viewer in a dark theater; the protagonist inching down a dark hallway, expecting that any moment the villain will leap out?

I love you. I wish I could wrap you in my arms and protect you, not that you would allow that, but just the same.

Don't go anywhere. Stay here. We need you. Please.

1 comment:

Comment Please but Play Nice!