A recent post on facebook about a couple's fight against breast cancer reminded me of so much my family went through during my mother's fight against lyposarcoma. While looking through the pictures and watching the videos, a flood of memories and emotions washed over me. I felt the sadness, uncertainty, fear, and determination in the woman's expression and couldn't help but see my mother's image.
Disease has a funny way of snapping us into reality--reminding us that we are mere mortals and that life is fleeting.
Right now I am facing my own health battle. In mid December I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, a type of chronic inflammatory bowl disease where the lining of my colon is essentially self-destructing. Upon being diagnosed, I had this flash back to the moment when I first found out that my mom had cancer. The shock, the questions, and anger. What was this disease? How long would I live? As a chronic illness how would it change my life forever? What could I do to make it better? Why me? Just as my body was getting healthy why did something else have to go wrong? Why did I have have to go through all this? Why why why me? Hadn't I suffered through enough for at least a few years? As these questions raced through my mind, I remembered my mom. I remembered her determination to beat her disease and her indiscriminate will to live. If my mother could fight against a death sentence with optimism and courage, then why was I wimping out over a chronic illness that has proven treatments? So when I get scared, I remember her, and remind myself that I have too much to live for and that I will find a treatment.
Sometimes though it is hard to be optimistic, and I wish I could be as fearless as my mother. After going through my first two treatments I found myself feeling better, only to find that in fact my disease had spread and had gotten worse. It's this false sense of security that is so painful--like when my mother went a whole year in remission, completely tumor free, only to find that a year later her cancer was back with vengeance. How did she not lose hope and give up? I'm sure she felt this same disappointment and dispair that I felt when I found out that despite my improved condition my illness had gotten worse. Though I have the support of my amazing family, I wish I had my mom to tell me how she got through her rough patches. I wish she was here to remind me that I will get through this because I have no other choice but to get better. She always knew just what to say and do.
Disease has a funny way of snapping us into reality--reminding us that we are mere mortals and that life is fleeting.
Right now I am facing my own health battle. In mid December I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, a type of chronic inflammatory bowl disease where the lining of my colon is essentially self-destructing. Upon being diagnosed, I had this flash back to the moment when I first found out that my mom had cancer. The shock, the questions, and anger. What was this disease? How long would I live? As a chronic illness how would it change my life forever? What could I do to make it better? Why me? Just as my body was getting healthy why did something else have to go wrong? Why did I have have to go through all this? Why why why me? Hadn't I suffered through enough for at least a few years? As these questions raced through my mind, I remembered my mom. I remembered her determination to beat her disease and her indiscriminate will to live. If my mother could fight against a death sentence with optimism and courage, then why was I wimping out over a chronic illness that has proven treatments? So when I get scared, I remember her, and remind myself that I have too much to live for and that I will find a treatment.
Sometimes though it is hard to be optimistic, and I wish I could be as fearless as my mother. After going through my first two treatments I found myself feeling better, only to find that in fact my disease had spread and had gotten worse. It's this false sense of security that is so painful--like when my mother went a whole year in remission, completely tumor free, only to find that a year later her cancer was back with vengeance. How did she not lose hope and give up? I'm sure she felt this same disappointment and dispair that I felt when I found out that despite my improved condition my illness had gotten worse. Though I have the support of my amazing family, I wish I had my mom to tell me how she got through her rough patches. I wish she was here to remind me that I will get through this because I have no other choice but to get better. She always knew just what to say and do.
Comments
Post a Comment