There is nothing that I can do on my own to fight this disease in my body, literally every step, every push back, every blast given to this disease is administered by another dear, specialized person, and when the chemo works in my body - that is the hand of God, healing me one cell at a time. (The cancer cells explode when the chemo hits them - it's the little things folks).
To truly fight like a premie, there were things I needed to know -
- Premies can't check statistics
- Premies can't google their symptoms
- Premies don't know what their odds are
- Premies don't spend time worrying or stressing
- Premies sleep, rest, cuddle
- Premies like me are BALD
- Premies don't need to understand what life is all about, they just know it's worth it
- Premies trust.
Another thing that Premies have, is perspective. They aren't overly puffed up about "who they are" or "what they deserve." Lately, perspective comes frequently, and usually in the form of another soul. A young man, far away from his family, his body not responding to chemo. A little girl, with big eyes in the wig shop, she's only 7 and she's going to lose her beautiful brown hair. A grandmother, no longer able to care for herself, cancer for the fifth time, hoping for the social worker to find her a new home. A father of a baby girl, worried about how to care for his family while he's fighting for his life. A young man, a big smile, announcing that he is going to ring that bell on Saturday morning - his fight coming to a close. My dear friends - perspective. From where I'm sitting, I don't have it that bad, and that is how I am determined to fight, a healthy mixture of trust and perspective. I need to lay in the hands of my Father, and fully trust that he is fighting on my behalf.
Here's to round 2!
Merry Christmas to all!