I apologize for inflicting another sarcoma-related post on you but sometimes it is the easiest way of updating people.
Yesterday I had a good chat with my oncologist about my latest PET scan. It came as no surprise to learn that three of the metastases in my lungs have grown, one of them noticeably.
Of course, part of me was disappointed at the news. I’d love to have been told that my disease had stabilized, but I knew it hadn’t. When I say I’ll just have to grin and bear it, I’m not being brave. I’m simply trying to find a way of coping with something over which I have no control, don’t fully understand, and wish were not happening at all. But it is happening, and there is no escape. I have always loathed the kind of piety that can lapse into sentimentality or leave someone with guilt feelings because they cannot emulate the model it proposes. I won’t go gentle into that good night, I’m sure of that. I’ll go as I have lived, though I hope there won’t be too much raging on my part — and no going anywhere for a good while yet.
I would like this post to be an encouragement to those of you who are treading a similar path to mine. It may be cancer or a stroke or heart attack or some other illness that you are trying to deal with as best you can. You may have very little time left, or you may have more than you expected (I’ve lasted much longer than anyone thought I would). The pain and limitations of your illness may be wearing you down; you may be anxious about your family/community, or worried because you have no one in particular to help you at a time when you must rely on others. You may have lost hope and feel utterly depressed. Being told that such feelings are probably a side-effect of whatever treatment you are having (or not having) won’t lift the burden from your shoulders, especially not at two in the morning when you are just a sweaty, sleepless bundle of anxiety and fear. The only comfort I can offer is the one I cling to, at least when I can. We are part of the Communion of Saints. Even in our darkest, most difficult moments, we are not alone.
I think that is why I believe that no matter how bumpy life becomes, our lives are never wasted, never meaningless. Somewhere in the midst of all the contradictions there is love, a love we might never otherwise have known but for our illness.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
There is something else we do well to remember. Those who love us, who deal with us when we are at our weakest and most demanding, who forgive us our grumbles and cantankerousness, not only show us God’s love and forgiveness. They are his love and forgiveness — incarnate, here and now. They are a foretaste of eternity. Let us give thanks for them and pray for them. Truly, theirs is the harder, lonelier, path to tread.
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