.
Some time ago I was asked to write an introductory piece for a communal cancer related site. Here it is...
What shall I say to my friend who has just received a difficult diagnosis of cancer?
Do I say I'm sorry? Of course. The journey will be difficult with no sure guarantees of…anything, but it goes without saying that life itself is like that.
Oops. I said it anyway.
But you, friend, what can I say? I can't tell you anything for sure. I can tell you my story, but it won't be your story. I can tell you where to buy the most comfortable wig, which websites give dependable information, which hospitals have the most user friendly waiting rooms.
The thing is, I can't tell you about you. However, I can show you a few shiny pebbles I've picked up on my own journeys. Perhaps you'll find some of those same pebbles, and maybe you'll find some I missed. If you do, I hope you'll share them.
So here goes;
Cancer sucks. Say it. Both words. When I was young, people didn't say the word "cancer". They said the Big C. The word struck fear our hearts. Those who suffered did so much more privately then than now, for the most part. I know of one woman, though, who didn't let her husband see her without her hair. She took off her wig only when the lights were out at night. How sad. Unless she changed her mind, she never felt the love of warm hands on her head, or the gentle lick kisses of her cat, or nose snuffles of her dog. She never felt what it's like to let the breeze caress her head without fussing with her "do".
Relationships change. A couple of my friends have distanced themselves, and I do forgive them. Others have come closer. One dear friend became angry with me when I was excluding her from my healing rituals. She shared her anger as a loving gift, and we became deeper gifts to each other.
Forgiveness. Of others, of self, of life itself for being so friggin' unfair. Of course, first I had to shout out my rage.
Attitude. I'd like to say it's something I discovered on my cancer journeys, but that wouldn't be true. I've had it for a long time. Let's just say that dealing with the physical, mental, and emotional aspects of the assaults of healing provided plenty of opportunities for me to practice humor, courage, bitchiness, selfish stubbornness, and transcendent peace.
Well, there's a few of the treasures I've found. There are others. If you're nearby, I have a shoulder for you to lean on, and arms to hold you as you find your way.
Witness. It is the only and best gift we can give each other.
.
.