Did you ever play the floor is lava when you were little? Some mornings I wake up and I feel like I am back in my youth, playing that game. Only it’s not just the floor, it’s life. And it’s not as cute. Because it’s not a game.
I wish I had known how true that was going to be today. There was no amount of Xanax that could have prepped me for the events that unfolded today.
I have gotten use to handling things that happen to me. I mean, we all deal with our own stuff in our own way. Although we never truly get use to life’s curve balls, we at least start learning how to handle them. It is when they happen to someone else that we all of a sudden feel powerless. I am used to being the one who has to stay strong for everyone when it comes to me. I feel people get that crack in their voice when they hear that I have to undergo chemo. The tear well up when they find out I was only 24 when I was diagnosed. The head shake when they learn that this is something I will always fight. I can be strong for them.
But I don’t know what to do. I keep thinking about what I would want people to do for me and I honestly don’t know.
– I don’t want someone to act like it’s the end
– I don’t want someone to act like it’s no big deal
– I don’t want someone to dote on me
– I DON’T want to entertain someone
– I don’t want you to leave so quickly
– I don’t want you to talk about me like I am not there
– Don’t send me a text asking “How am I feeling”? “Perfect! Wonderful! Great! The Hospital is lovely this time of year!”
– Bring me something. Hospitals suck. I want to look at something other than a blank wall. Color me a picture. Get me a stuffed animal. Get a balloon. HOSPITALS SUCK.
So I’m not ready, but I am ready, to go catch this curve ball. If nothing else, to smile, play games and make things better…
if I can…