This photo is a little blurry, but it shows a couple of things. To the far lower left corner you can see the edge of our outdoor firepit. In Jim’s hand you can see the clippers he used to cut branches from inside the hedge behind him that we would burn in that firepit. The hedge behind him I often refer to in my posts. It is at present home to Chickadees, Robins, Blue Jays and Cardinals. Just this morning the Blue Jays were squawking wildly at a fox who was creeping through looking for a little snack. You should have seen them chasing him away!
Yes, it is as big as it seems! I was concerned for a small while that Jim would go crazy with those clippers and bring too much of it down. After being inside that gap you see behind him for a while last Saturday morning with my new 6″ chain saw I can honestly say I need not have worried. Look! He was even handsome blurry!
A friend sent a long group text today about the doctor visits and tests she has had recently. In short, she has breast cancer. I am worried about her, of course. She has been doing too much for too many and her body has had enough. Hopefully her doctors will come together with a reasonable and helpful plan that will lead her back to health. But mostly I worry that she will not seek or welcome the help she will need from her friends and family. She is accustomed to doing so much on her own.
My mind immediately went into overdrive and I have had to pull myself back from the “This is the end” place where I so often end up when I hear of a new cancer diagnosis! I went from that to a mental diatribe on “being brave” and all the many good and terrible ways that description can go with a diagnosis of cancer! To finally realizing that I am just plain old angry. And how is that in the least helpful?
Eight years and two days ago my good friend, George, lost her final bout with cancer. I still have her photo on my dresser and I talk to her quite often. She doesn’t always answer, but she also doesn’t interrupt. 🙂 People said she was brave. I don’t think she thought of herself as brave. I think she saw herself getting through one day at a time like the rest of us, but with the knowledge that she was going to have less days than most. She kept her sense of self and her sense of humor. So even on bad days, when her kidneys weren’t at their best and her new port was making her uncomfortable she laughed and sang and danced in her hospital bed while her son-in-law played music on his phone and we all, nurses included, danced along.
Is that the definition of brave? Or is it the going through with the treatments knowing that you will feel terrible afterwards? Or is it making life and death decisions through brain fog?
Aren’t we brave enough when we get a diagnosis of cancer and still manage to find our way home through traffic?
Jimmy had determination in his initial approach to being diagnosed with lung cancer. Dr. G gave him the choice of starting treatment tomorrow or next week. He chose tomorrow, of course. Is that bravery or necessity? Is every PET scan an act of bravery? Every radiation treatment? New drug?
Jim and I laughed at the folks who said they wouldn’t get a Covid immunization because they didn’t know what was in it! Ha! Try having poison dripped into your arm for a cure!! That’s bravery!
I know my friend will be brave, but I also want her to understand that there are quite a few of us who would like to stand beside her while she is doing so. Asking for help requires bravery too.
