THURSDAY THOUGHTS - Cancer's Gift To Us

 Guest Post:

After my Cancer diagnosis I became more aware of those around me who suffered with different forms of this dreaded disease. My breast cancer, though frightening to me, was much less severe than the cases of many people I knew.

Dave, one of my lifelong friends from high school, lived right around the corner from me. He was diagnosed with an aggressive form of liver cancer in the month of May and was dead by mid September. He loved company so we visited him often. My grandchildren remember the time we took him a watermelon, at his request, after one of our fishing trips. He was a gregarious sort of guy who was loved by many people. As he grew weaker, I would quietly sit by his side and hold his hand until he went to sleep. I treasure this memory of sharing many of his last waking moments with him. While I ached for him and his family, I was filled with a deep and silent gratitude that my own cancer was  discovered early and was much more manageable.

My father had colon cancer over 33 years ago, before anyone knew what a colonoscopy was. The surgery was a success and he is fine now. As a result, we are all scanned regularly, we never miss. He has also had prostate cancer and recovered well from yet another surgery. His one wish was to be able to care for my mother until she died, which he was able to do in fine style.

My mother's cancer was much slower moving. She suffered from Multiple Myeloma, cancer of the bone marrow. Unlike Dave's fast moving cancer, hers progressed much slower and was brutally painful. Her bones slowly rotted away until her Femur broke one morning as she was getting out of bed. I watched this vibrant, capable woman slowly waste away to nothing, weighing less than one hundred pounds when she died. I remember well the evening she left my son, Matthew's wedding. As my father rolled her away in her wheelchair, My youngest son, Nick, fell into my arms and cried as if his heart would break. He knew her time was short and it hit him hard because he spent most of his teenage years living in their home along with me.

I have found that cancer is like a dark cloud, robbing us of those we love. But, like most dark clouds there is a silver lining. The last moments we spend with our loved ones become some of the best we have with them. During my mother's last two weeks we slowed down life's frantic pace, laying aside, jobs, obligations and other unnecessary pressures. We made time to be together; we took time to laugh; we enjoyed time to share; we created time to bond, and benefited greatly from time to deepen relationships. These last precious moments together were cancer's gift to us.

-Kathy Christensen