Waiting to know
The big "C" it lingers and lurks and sits on the tip of the tongue begging to be released but it hurts the heart to actually speak it's name. It sit dormant in many, just waiting for a change, a shift, a shiver, something to spark it into abundant life. For some it comes slowly,often without warning or much notice. Others it shows itself in an abrupt manner of life shattering moments. It takes life swiftly far too often and other times it likes to play a game of hide and seek for years and years. For those young enough to see their future and not their past fly before there eyes when hearing the word, it is a terrifying fate to face. When you have come to peace with death cancer is not so threatening. It is your path, the road you were meant to take. At 25 the possibility of such a crippling fate makes you freeze in your tracks. You find yourself trying to catch your breath with every gasp you inhale.
I made choices like many adolescent and young adults do to be young careless and free. I feel fine. I look fine. I seem fine. Test results show otherwise. An abnormal scan, a biopsy of tissue. And you sit, you wait. Two weeks has never seemed so long. A 1% chance is still a chance, 15% more so. You try not to panic but the thought creeps up inside you, it sits and seethes in the back of your mind. Just when you think you're going to be alright the possibility of the worst comes crashing back with extreme force. Constantly sitting on the brink of tears over the agony of not knowing. There is no control over the matter. You are either a sitting duck with cancer continuously multiplying or you're fine with a simple virus that can be cured.
Cancer doesn't have to mean the end but it doesn't necessarily mean forever either. If a life lesson is what I needed than this is one of the biggest slaps in face I have received.
Breathing for tomorrow. I know it will come, and slowly time will pass until I know the answer.
I made choices like many adolescent and young adults do to be young careless and free. I feel fine. I look fine. I seem fine. Test results show otherwise. An abnormal scan, a biopsy of tissue. And you sit, you wait. Two weeks has never seemed so long. A 1% chance is still a chance, 15% more so. You try not to panic but the thought creeps up inside you, it sits and seethes in the back of your mind. Just when you think you're going to be alright the possibility of the worst comes crashing back with extreme force. Constantly sitting on the brink of tears over the agony of not knowing. There is no control over the matter. You are either a sitting duck with cancer continuously multiplying or you're fine with a simple virus that can be cured.
Cancer doesn't have to mean the end but it doesn't necessarily mean forever either. If a life lesson is what I needed than this is one of the biggest slaps in face I have received.
Breathing for tomorrow. I know it will come, and slowly time will pass until I know the answer.