Two Camps

When I tell someone I have cancer, I find the reactions are divided into two camps. The first camp is overly sympathetic and grieving for me that this disastrous thing has befallen me. The reaction usually stems from people who’ve been touched by cancer, usually family or friends, and the results were grim (i.e. death). The other camp is warm and kind but relatively calm about the whole thing, having gone through the experience with a loved one that resulted in a cure. The response is usually, “you’ll be fine, you’ll get through this just fine.”

I don’t know what the appropriate response should be, but it was just a curious observation for me. I sit somewhere in the middle. I don’t have complete reassurance that everything will be “just fine” but I also don’t feel like it’s the end of the world. I’m not some sort of superhero overcoming insurmountable odds, but I’m also not breezing through this like it’s just a regular Thursday. I’m sort of hanging in the balance, weighing both sides each day and praying for the best at each turn. That’s all I can do at this point. 

By the way, I bet you didn’t know that I’ve been rocking head scarves since infancy!