So heyyooo. I know everybody is aware of Hurricane Sandy, and the devastating effects it had on parts of NY and NJ. It's a fairly simple procedure, rain and wind. I don't need to go in depth--you've all seen the news.
Last night, as I often do (and by often, I mean---I NEVER EVER EVER TURN IT OFF), I was watching HLN. I watch HLN in my sleep. Literally. It's on while I'm sleeping just in case I wake up in the middle of the night and need to pee and perhaps would like to hear some news. It's an odd habit of mine. On weekends they do HLN weekend mysteries where somebody gets killed and it's usually the ex-boyfriend or the husband who didn't get a prenup. I find falling asleep to stories about serial killers soothing for some reason. It gives me a sense of "thank god I'm safe in my bed and not getting killed by that serial killer." I know it's strange but I don't consider myself typical. I'm radioactive. Ask my radiologist, he'll tell you.
But anyhoooooooo I got off on a tangent. I was watching/listening to HLN last night as I counted out my six thousand pills, and Dr. Drew was talking to a woman who's life was turned completely upside down by the hurricane. She was talking about how she just wanted everything back. Everything she had before the hurricane, she wanted back--even the mundane, or the troublesome things like her bills, and the less devastating issues that plagued her life before. And she said that everyone needs to be prepared. Which really rang true for me in a lot of ways.
I know I've talked in this blog before about invincibility. How we all, especially the younger generations, at certain times in our life feel like we're going to live forever. Like we're untouchable. And this woman on TV made a lot of sense.
Now, I know that she was probably talking more along the lines of being prepared for national disasters and the like. But I guess I took it in a more general way. We all need to be prepared--even when it feels like everything is going perfectly--for hard times. Because we will all come across hard times, some more difficult than others.
I remember distinctly, when I first came home from the hospital after my emergency admittance which lead to my first chemotherapy. I had been in the hospital for a little over a week. One day of which had been Christmas. And when I pulled into the driveway...the first thing I thought was, "a week ago I pulled in to this driveway, and was crying because I'd failed my road test. Now look at me." I entered my house, and everything was completely different, and yet nothing had changed. I went up the stairs, and was shocked when I reached the top, because I was wheezing, out of breath, lightheaded--and a week ago I had just bounded up the stairs as a regular annoying teenager. It was that moment that I realized I didn't have the strength to face my bedroom. I wouldn't go in there.
I stayed in my mother's room, or on the couch. I would send other family members in my room to get things for me. I mentally could not face the evidence that I had once been a snobby little teenager who brushed her hair, slept in that bed, opened those drawers, watched that television--who cared only about getting clearer skin and the lead in the musical at school. It was probably about two and a half weeks before I would really set foot in that room.
I wish I could tell you how I felt when I finally did. I don't remember a lot of it. But I do remember picking up the little oboe figurine and card on my nightstand that my mom and dad had given me two weeks before my diagnosis, after the All-State Band concert. The card said they were proud of me.
But I wasn't proud of me. Because the girl I was before that diagnosis was ungrateful and took everything for granted. She never once stopped to think about how lucky she was, or that she needed to cherish everything now.
After the hurricane, I'm sure there a thousands of people feeling that same way. With that in mind, and the upcoming Thanksgiving Holiday, remind yourselves of how absolutely lucky and fortunate you are. What you're forunate for. Who you're fortunate to have. And tell those people.
That, my good peeps, is how you prepare for harder times. It's not about sitting around wondering when you're gonna get yours, or when everything is going to fall apart. It's about knowing what you truly have in life, so that you can hold onto those things even more when times get tough.
Today is the three year anniversary of the day I finished chemo. You can bet I know exaclty who and what I'm thankful for. How about you?
<3
Jesse
PS. No post next week, all. It's gonna be a longgggg few days!
No comments:
Post a Comment