Life Interupted

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.” – Soren Kierkegaard

I can’t remember when I had a thought that wasn’t consumed by cancer. If it is not thinking about Tucker needs or what medications he should have, it’s this looping prayer of thanks that he is in remission and what could only be constitued as pure unadulterated begging that he remains so.  I think about how little funding Pediatric Cancer gets and how little people know about what these young warriors go through.  I think about John who is losing his battle or Hunter who lost his. I think about Alex who will get a bone marrow transplant to risk it all for a chance to win and Maya who is over 100 days out of a transplant and on her way to a victory.  But most of all, I think about Tucker and how hard he has to fight to beat a type of leukemia with such a poor prognosis that Dr Chang had to warn us that most children with his type do not survive treatment. That having a bone marrow transplant really will not up his odds of survival. So that has me thinking about blood counts and calorie counts and how to make more moments count. I think about being strong and how to be positive and sometime I just think about how pissed off that I am that this even happened.

Both Tucker’s and my life have been completly interupted.  Tucker was on his way to learning and mastering skateboarding when he got sick.  I was doing well at my job. Both of us relativly new to Portland and just starting to get used to our new surroundings. Now Tucker won’t even be able to go to school for his 6th grade year.  I have had to take an indefinate leave of absence from my work relying on charity, state assistance and fundraising to make ends meet.  We spend most everyday in the hospital with often only, at most, one week a month in the real world.  No longer does my little boy go outside to play nor do I get a chance to hang out with friends.  Not to mention that neither of us actually get a full night of sleep anymore.

I wouldn’t wish this life on my worst enemy. It is exhausting and humbling, where ego takes a back burner to survival. Where personal agendas step aside to make way for medical regiments. I don’t say all this to throw a pity party, although I can see how it would seem that way. It just is a reality and feeling sorry for oneself would not make it go away or any easier.

What I have discovered is how at a moment of crisis your life and all the many ways we spread ourselves thin can narrow itself down to one determined focus.  That you don’t really need all that stuff we surround ourselves with. That you should say I love you as often as you can. That you must find a reason to laugh everyday. That you should let people help you out because it blesses them as much as it aids you. That when things are hard for you should give to another because it encourages you as much as it helps them. That even when things seem bleak you should not feel sorry for yourself.  That nothing is hopeless and that there are more people out there that care about you than you ever realized.

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