breathe in...and out....

Like I said, last time I posted probably wasn't the best time to blog. But things are better now, like they always are....life is manageable once again. My dear friend R and I went out for lunch and coffee Friday in the midst of my UNCdeletingmyONYENcrisis, and I felt much, much better afterwards. This weekend has been filled with talking with family and catching up with friends, and reading good books. I have also been running, which is a great stress-reliever and endorphin producer.

My nursing application is in. It is out of my hands, and all I can do now is wait, and hope.

Speaking of hope....I struggle to reconcile hope with fact. With my aunt's diagnosis, intellectually, I know it is less than ideal. But I also know that inherently, when it comes to individual people, statistics mean nothing. They are just numbers. We all know people who beat the odds, who shouldn't have lived, who have come much further than was ever expected of them. Look at Lance Armstrong. Look at Patrick Swayze. Never underestimate the power of will to live, of a fighting spirit. I often overlook this, because I can't "quantify" it, can't measure it, can't prove it. It defies simple, logical explanation and that bothers me to no end. But it happens. And in this line of work, that can be nice to remember. It's necessary to remember.

This is also my first time dealing with the whirlwind that accompanies a late-stage cancer diagnosis of someone I love. I didn't know about J's late stage of her breast cancer until afterwards, when she was in remission, and R's cancer is a recurrence....so this, this is new. And it's shocking. It is all-encompassing, pulltheflooroutfromunderyou stunning. Things were fine one week, the next, all hell has broken loose. It goes against everything explainable. And the anger....but there's no one or nothing to be angry at, because this cancer has no good screening test. It has no super-early warning signs. There's not a pin-pointable cause. No rhyme or reason. Which just seems to fuel the anger. Or at least my anger, anyway. I'm angry because I'm not a doctor and I can't make this alright. I'm angry because I'm not up there. I'm angry because oncology doesn't have better things to offer her, and what we have seems so inadequate when you're faced with the knowledge of how this disease works and where it is right now.

So what am I doing? I am reading my books, reading the Bible, praying (even if I don't fully understand where G-d is coming from), drinking my coffee, listening to my nephew's laugh on the phone, and enjoying the sunshine every day. What else can I do?

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." - Albert Einstein