I tend to think of cancer as a gift. I think it helps me prioritize life's details. I believe it has taught me to stress less. I know it's made me more sensitive to others sharing this planet with me. Yes, cancer has made me a better person. And I consider that a gift.
This is not how writer
Lauren Terrazzano describes her dance with cancer.
"The truth is, having cancer just pisses me off," says Terrazzano.
"I wish I could be one of those people who has had the epiphany, who believes the disease has given me valuable insight into life. OK, I occasionally feel that way, but it might just be the pain medication."
Neither of us is right. We just have different takes on living with a deadly disease. And our opposite viewpoints make for a rather enlightening study on how cancer affects us all so differently.
I regularly write about the blessings I've found in the midst of cancer. So for today's
Thought for the Day, I present to you some thoughts from Terrazzano about how cancer is not always a gift.
Think about this:
On cancer making her a better person
I
don't really remember what kind of person I was before cancer. While I may not be better, I am definitely blunter.
I often say whatever I want to whomever I want, whenever the moment strikes me. These flashes can be toxic to those around me. I once yelled at a homeless man who asked me for a dollar. I yell at my husband sometimes, arguing about stupid things like how to shove a brisket into the freezer, above the peas and spinach.
And I sometimes wish bad things on bad people. Mostly the high-octane evil people, like Osama bin Laden (Why can't he have to go through chemotherapy? Why can't he have a good dose of radiation?). Are these really the musings of a better person? On living each day as if it's your last Nope. Can't do it.
While sometimes I am the carpe diem sort of girl, I want to live each day like just another day. I want to watch When Harry Met Sally for the 17th time or surf the Internet for new pictures of Britney Spears' bald head. Then I want to cap it off by several hours of reading. Forget Tolstoy, though. I'd rather read People magazine. Why do I have to cram life into 20 seconds, while other people have the luxury of doing it over the span of 20 years? On why she is not so brave Firefighters and police officers who plunge head first into dangerous situations are brave. A child protective worker who gets paid next to nothing and tries to be a mother to as many as 50 dysfunctional families is brave. Those people chose their positions in life. Cancer chose me. It's not bravery that gets me up every morning to try to beat back the monster. It's a survival instinct that kicks in, pure Darwinism.
The fact is, most of the time I am scared to death. I wear Band-Aids far too long because I can't take the agony of pulling them off. I hate needles (though I don't know anyone who likes them). Why is it that people who hate getting blood drawn are the ones who usually end up with serious illnesses that require getting stuck often? It's a mystery of the universe, much like why tornadoes seem to seek out trailer parks to do their damage.
"What one thing did you learn at Canyon Ranch?" my dad asked me the other day. We hadn't yet fully discussed my April trip to this Arizona health and healing destination and so he wanted to know what I had absorbed during my four days in the desert. I couldn't possibly name just one lesson I'd learned. But I could sum up all of my lessons in one broad category. This is what I told him: I learned how to change my lifestyle.
