I have been pissing and moaning here about my stupid arm for over a month.
Truth be told, recovery is slower than I'd like, but steady and the prognosis is good. And, it is truly time that I shut up about it.
I was already thinking along those lines. But, some news this week really crystallized how lucky I am. I am middle-aged and had both of my parents most of my life (lost mom 2.5 years ago). I had a fabulous relationship with my mom and continue to with my dad and family. I have a super husband and three great boys.
And, unlike several other people that I know - I don't have any form of cancer.
I have a student that they think may have lymphoma. She is terribly sick, and is still waiting (after weeks, biopsies, drugs, and all kinds of issues). They just aren't sure.
So, last week, I let her know that I hoped she could go home for the weekend. Get some R&R, I said, and let them pamper you a little.
Turns out, at home she is the healthy one. Her mom has a progressive neurological disease (along the lines of Parkinson's) and is struggling to care for her mother that has some advanced form of dementia. This sick young woman was heading home for the weekend to take care of two other people. She has some pluck.
The other diagnosis is even more difficult. A lovely little girl (A) is about two and a half, and has kidney cancer. This is not usually the worst of the worst, but she has some genetic analyses that do not provide a good prognosis. And, folks, we are talking about five year survivorship data, like, the chance she will make it to eight years old. Her baby brother idolizes her, and, doesn't know why she is too tired to play with him.
A has been poked and prodded more than any child should have to be. When she sees a nurse coming now, she pulls on her mommy's sleeve and says "I fine, mommy, go home?" She looks at the syringe and tells the nurse "no thank you, I leave".
This beautiful little girl has lost her hair, her teeth are changing color (the chemo), and falls asleep instead of plays at the playground.
So, hug your loved ones tonight, and appreciate that you can go to sleep in relative comfort and with no major diagnoses hanging over you (I hope).
If you (or someone you love) is in this sort of situation as well - I send my love your way.
There's nothing to see here, folks, other people need a chance to be heard (and thought about, and cared for, and worried over, and loved).