A friend is writing a great series of posts on Curing the Incurable—lessons she learned from curing herself of Lupus.
I'm immensely inspired by her, as well as reminded of my own journey with a benign brain tumor five years ago.
The cause was different, but the lesson is the same: We are each the cure to whatever ails us.
I remember sitting in the doctor's office, looking at the chart with my tumor on it, and feeling my own mortality at age 29.
Not long after, I decided that if I had to go through with this, I could choose how I did it. It was like a switch went off—I decided that I could make the best of this situation with every part of me.
From that moment on, I was worried, but I also reveled in buying lounge wear for after my surgery, made an appointment for a massage on the day before, laughed and joked with every nurse and doctor I met—even when I was in pain. They were there to help me, and I knew I would make their jobs (and mine) easier by being as open as I could to what was coming.
When I hurt, I cried. When I got tired of the hospital stays and the medicine and the seemingly-unending feeling of being the patient, I got angry and distraught.
I was real through it all—and I enjoyed as much of it as possible. There is a way to do both.
Reading Mary's series I'm reminded how my positive attitude was reflected back at me by my loved ones and the nurses. I celebrated every day, from the first time I could wash my hair to when I could finally look both ways to cross the street by myself. It felt like experiencing childhood as an adult, where the simplest things were amazing and new.
Have you had a similar experience? Or, do you want support for your own journey?
Either way, I know at least two of us eager to lend an ear.