alli_boom (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} alli_boom) wrote,@ 2008-09-10 11:56:00 |
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The Struggle.
Today I am reflective...I am anxiously awaiting my father's return from surgery - once again sitting on the fifth floor of the Methodist Hospital, at the Mayo Clinic. Back in January my dad was diagnosed with a rectal carcinoma - more commonly referred to as: colon cancer. I am remembering the moment that we heard the news...I can remember the eternity that seemed to pass from that moment until the moment the doctors really told us what his treatment would entail.
All of this seems like a long while ago - walking through the marble atrium in the Mayo I feel like I can reflect...I feel like this is almost over. My dad is having what should be his final surgery and his treatment is over. It has taken 28 days of radiation, along with 6 weeks of chemo, followed by a 5 hour surgery to remove the tumor, followed by additional chemo treatments, and now....the last step is reconnection of his small intestine. This last step will allow his colon to again do what it is intended to do - I won't go into any further detail on that :)
When a loved one receives a cancer diagnosis, your immediate reaction is a cross between anger and disbelief. There is this phase where you feel punished and wonder why this would happen to your father (mother, brother, etc). Cancer is the bodies way of warning us that our systems are dangerously out of balance and in need of a little TLC. A friend of my dad's died of a heart attack this past year - with no warning. I can't help but be thankful for the warning - although it was a rather painful, unwanted warning; it was no less a second chance.
In Africa, I often asked how the people kept their chins so high when there was so much pain in their lives. Mary said something about them being used to the struggle, I can't remember her exact words. I took the words to mean that when you live daily with the hardship, you get used to dealing with the pain. And naturally, the joys that seem small to us are much larger and more meaningful, relatively speaking.
Sometimes it is convenient to go through life thinking that our problems are more difficult than those of others and that life is being unfair to us. When in reality – everyone has shit that they go through…just when you think you have a mound of crap to deal with, inevitably you find out that someone else has it worse.
"If we were put here to carry a great weight, the very things we hate are here to build those muscles." - from a Brother Ali song, called The Puzzle.
Today I am reflective...I am anxiously awaiting my father's return from surgery - once again sitting on the fifth floor of the Methodist Hospital, at the Mayo Clinic. Back in January my dad was diagnosed with a rectal carcinoma - more commonly referred to as: colon cancer. I am remembering the moment that we heard the news...I can remember the eternity that seemed to pass from that moment until the moment the doctors really told us what his treatment would entail.
All of this seems like a long while ago - walking through the marble atrium in the Mayo I feel like I can reflect...I feel like this is almost over. My dad is having what should be his final surgery and his treatment is over. It has taken 28 days of radiation, along with 6 weeks of chemo, followed by a 5 hour surgery to remove the tumor, followed by additional chemo treatments, and now....the last step is reconnection of his small intestine. This last step will allow his colon to again do what it is intended to do - I won't go into any further detail on that :)
When a loved one receives a cancer diagnosis, your immediate reaction is a cross between anger and disbelief. There is this phase where you feel punished and wonder why this would happen to your father (mother, brother, etc). Cancer is the bodies way of warning us that our systems are dangerously out of balance and in need of a little TLC. A friend of my dad's died of a heart attack this past year - with no warning. I can't help but be thankful for the warning - although it was a rather painful, unwanted warning; it was no less a second chance.
In Africa, I often asked how the people kept their chins so high when there was so much pain in their lives. Mary said something about them being used to the struggle, I can't remember her exact words. I took the words to mean that when you live daily with the hardship, you get used to dealing with the pain. And naturally, the joys that seem small to us are much larger and more meaningful, relatively speaking.
Sometimes it is convenient to go through life thinking that our problems are more difficult than those of others and that life is being unfair to us. When in reality – everyone has shit that they go through…just when you think you have a mound of crap to deal with, inevitably you find out that someone else has it worse.
"If we were put here to carry a great weight, the very things we hate are here to build those muscles." - from a Brother Ali song, called The Puzzle.
