Courage

Courage comes in all shapes and sizes.

For the past few years, I’ve spent time with my gbabes as they learned to drive. I’ll admit it took a certain amount of bravery on my part to sit in the passenger seat while they learned the fine art of driving. It wasn’t until the oldest prepared to take his driver’s license test that I realized how courageous he was, too. I hadn’t given much thought to the pressure he was feeling to pass the exam on his first attempt. He passed, and his sigh of relief was palpable.

When I worked in oncology, patients would share the fears they experienced every time they walked into the clinic. Would the scans show progression? Is the chemotherapy working? Even patients who only visited once a year for their annual check-up mentioned how difficult it was to return to “the scene of the crime.”  Whether it’s your first time or 50^th, walking into a cancer clinic takes a certain amount of chutzpa.

This weekend I received a text from a favorite patient I’ve stayed in touch with for many, many years. I first met her when she came to the clinic for her 7-year check-up, expecting to be told she was cancer free. Unfortunately, the news was quite the opposite. In true fashion, she faced the challenge with determination and grace. You see, she was a single mom with 2 young sons; giving up was not an option. Over the last 15 years, she raised her sons, taught in elementary schools, and lived life well. She went for regular check-ups but refused traditional cancer treatment in lieu of a plant-based diet, avoiding processed foods and sugar. She really is sort of a walking miracle.

In her text, she told me she has decided to enroll in hospice. She explained that her symptoms are progressing and that she’s tired. I shared a favorite quote by ee cummings, “May absolute peace gently descend.” As is her style, she reassured me she was “all in on planning and sailing into this transition from physical to light.”

Courage comes in all shapes and sizes.