How is it we take so much for granted - until we don't?
Did you see it? The day the world changed? I saw it! I never believed in "dimensions in time" before that day. But I remember it so clearly... It happened with just one call.
What is one suppose to do when they get that call. There is nothing in my repertoire that prepared me for how I should act. What is the proper etiquette?
I had stepped off the pages of my familiar life into a vortex.
Can you still see me?
I am moving in slow motion... Feeling invisible while you go on with your every day life - unscathed.
How can YOU go on like that? Like nothing has changed? Going about your usual duties... Thinking of your plans, your tasks, your work. How DARE you! Stop! Right NOW! You are moving so fast - while I am moving in sloooooow motion...
"Helloooooo!!! Can you see me????" A strong desire to wave my hand in front of your face. I'm quite sure I've become invisible. WHY do I FEEL like I am NO LONGER a part of the HUMAN RACE???
I feel ALONE. So ALONE.
You can't SHARE this with me. It's not something you can SHARE because it is happening to ME.
I can't even FATHOM WHAT it is that has happened.
My mind is outside of my body.... Incredulous. Unaccepting. Astonished....
I want to shake you! I want to cry out to you - "Help me! Help me!!! Please wake me up from this horrible, horrible dream!!! This CAN'T BE!" But you don't see the changes. Maybe you don't even see me? Because you walk right by caught up in your thoughts, in your agenda, in your plans... I HAD plans TOO!
As hard as I try to go about my normal daily duties - I can't. I keep thinking, "We are not the same anymore..." You can't understand. You can't experience this from the same place as I. Its as if there is a chasm between us. I once was where you are - but you have never been where I am.
"Where am I?"
Even if you wanted to - you can't.
"What happened? What is going on? How did this happen? Why did this happen? Did this even happen?"
I want to scream! I want to shout! I want to cry! - But I can't because I'm on the outside looking in...
This is NOT happening. Not to ME. I'm YOUNG. I'm not old yet! This can't happen - not to ME. No! No! No!!!!!
Who is that lying on that hospital bed with the backless hospital gown on, going through all those tests? Staring up at the drop down ceiling in the basement of the Radiology department of some hospital.
What did you say?
"Blah Blahh Blahhh... Cancer. Blah blah blahhh surgery... Blah blah blahhh chemo..."
Why can't I understand your words? Why do you sound like Charlie Brown's teacher? I see your lips moving - but I can't understand your words?
I turn my head and look at my mother... My safety net. The woman who birthed me. She reaches out and touches my hand... I feel it.... I FEEL IT! My eyes beseech her for understanding. For clarity. For understanding. She leans over and kisses my forehead.
She see's me! I'm not invisible. I'm still here!!!
She translates the Oncologist words. It's not the words I understand and accept, it's her reassuring firm motherly tone that soothes me. It's the way she is holding my hand. It's the strength in her voice. The same familiar strength I've heard throughout many moments in my life. Like when I was a child and woke up from a bad dream, and she comforted me as only a mother can do.
Her voice becomes my lullaby. Rhythmic. Soothing. Like the comfort an unborn baby gets from the pulsating familiar sound of a mother's heartbeat.
"One step at a time. Come on. We can do this. FIGHT. You are not alone. See? Here is my hand. FIGHT. I am NOT going to let you give up! FIGHT. Moment by moment - see? We've already made it to the next. Look - there's another one. FIGHT."
I do it because she says to. She's my mother. She knows. The vortex is getting smaller now. I can step from the hole back onto the groove of humanity. Because she tells me to.
FIGHT.
I'm concentrating on the word with ALL I have. FIGHT. Don't GIVE in. Don't GIVE up. Don't let go. Don't think too hard. FIGHT.
I don't recognize the woman in the mirror. Who is she? She kinda looks like me.
FIGHT.
My senses are gone... All except for the sense of smell... Will I EVER get that smell of chemotherapy out of my nose??? It sickens me... Taste is exaggerated, I never want to see another Jolly Rancher for as long as I live....
FIGHT.
How did the moments turn into minutes? Into hours? Into days? Into months? Chemo is over now - switching it up to radiation... How can something you don't FEEL cause SUCH burns? Will it EVER stop?
F I G H T.
Radiation is over. So are the doctor appointments. So is the treatment. It has been a success...
What do I do now?
LIVE.
I turn and scratch my peach fuzz head...
Live? How? I don't remember how?
JUST LIVE.
And so I do.. Tentatively, like a baby learning how to walk. Unsure of whether or not I'll lose my balance and fall... I can see those who stood by me throughout this whole ordeal - the TRUE ones. Ready to catch me should I begin to fall.
"LIVE," they say encouragingly... LIVE.
And so I will... Each moment, each minute, each day. Not as before. Never as before. I've lost the know-how to BE as before. I am changed...
Changed - but very much ALIVE...
