The Rising Tide

        So I woke up this morning and part of my morning routine is checking Facebook while I sit down in a little room all by myself. It's a little room with one seat and some soft paper rolled up on a piece of cardboard within reach. While checking my Facebook account, I scrolled down and came across a picture that was posted by one of my favorite people in the world. Here is the picture:

 

            I don't know that I know many people like her. She and her son Zak create their own happiness in a way that is obvious to others. A way that is infectious to those they are around. It's a pretty amazing thing to see people respond to adversity in a way that almost makes you want things not to go your way.

           The other day I was limping because of some pain in my left leg. Nothing new there. There was some cancer in there a while back that was radiated. This past month I got my first in a series of injections that are aimed at bone regeneration. I don't know the extent to which the cancer ate away at the femur, but it still hurts. It has some good days and some that aren't so good. I'm not sure how many more months the injections will continue, but I am sure it won't be taken care of before my next injection. The point is, later in that same day, I was sitting down thinking about the leg and I started to make a mental list of all the things that have lingered on and flare up from time to time. It actually surprised me when I thought of how many things there were. I really don't want you to think of this as some way of getting sympathy or anything along those lines. What I am trying to get at is that I don't wake up or go to bed upset about these things. I don't wake up counting all the things that are causing pain or that I am dreading about the day. 

         Before cancer, when I would roll out of bed, the list of things that I was dreading about the day was much longer than the list of things I dread about the day now that I have cancer. It's not because traffic sucks less with cancer. It's because all I want out of life is to be with my family. To spend time with my girls. When you can wake up, roll out of bed and start your day and end your day with what makes you want to live, there isn't very much that really can get you out of that place. I had a brief time back in 2014 when I had cancer, but didn't know it, and had the life that I have now with Karen and Harper. I appreciated my life and the new perspective that Harper had brought to my marriage, but when I got up in the morning and went to bed at night, what happened in between played a much larger role in determining the feeling I had waking up and going to bed. 

          When you get the news that you are going to have cancer the rest of your life, there is a lot of it that is processable and a lot that is not. The parts that you are able to process are typically pretty easy to deal with. They aren't without a wide range of emotions, but it serves to really shift your focus directly on what drives you. The things you can control. With cancer, you can't control much, but you can control how you approach each day. I can choose to be happy with a lot less resistance than I have experienced prior to all the lessons cancer has brought our way. I've learned so much about what I can do without as long as I have what I need. Which surprisingly enough isn't very much. Just two girls who look a lot alike.

"we will ride the rising tide"- Jeremy Enigk

With love,

Brian