Paul - "What Cancer Teaches"

What Cancer Teaches

What It was just another beautiful day in June- a normal day- a boring day. Until it happened; I was pulled into the house and to the living room and everybody was sitting down on the bulky couches and my mom was blabbing on about the tests the doctors had done on her. My brother yelled, “Cut to the chase, mom!”
I was sitting on the couch waiting impatiently for her answer and then finally she said it, “I have a tumor. It might be cancer.”
Right there my heart stopped. The world went into slow motion. Her sentence penetrated my reality. I tried to fight it off, but instead tears welled up in my eyes, and they spilled down my cheeks. Persistent tears ran down my face. We all sat on the couch and cried together.
Before that sad and fearful day, I thought other families got the bad news. Our family was invincible. Now, I know that’s not the case. I see my mom differently. She has been bald and tired all the time. But she has also become my hero. Despite her chemotherapy that gives her sorrow, nausea, and insomnia, she refuses to give up. When other people stop their treatments early because they are so miserable, she decided to do more! She has proven that cancer is limited. She has proven she is invincible.
And when cancer came, it brought me two new friends. They were Strength and Worry. Strength is a mystery. Sometimes he would be with me, but other times he would be far from sight. I really couldn’t count on him. The worst part is that when I needed him most he would be gone. And Worry, well, Worry was a persistent guy. He would jab at me, and jab at me, talk to me, what ever he could do to make me not fall asleep. And when I did sleep, he would always be whispering in my ear, “This could make your mom really sad… You should be worried too.”
After eighteen months, we are all very anxious to get the chemo done. We are anxious for her hair to grow back. We are anxious for her to start playing with my brother, Teague, and me again. Plus, once the chemo is over, normalcy will finally return to our lives. Normal is a lot better than I ever thought it could be. I will always feel appreciative when I am bored because bored means that I’m safe and nothing is wrong. Cancer teaches that.
By Paul C. Gudemann