Earlier this evening I was on the phone speaking at length with a young woman of 50. She is the one whom I described in my previous email as having multiple myeloma and amyloidosis. I had called to offer my love and support during her hour of need. Instead we carried on with hilarity as we usually do on the rare occasion we’re together. You see she lives in Hawaii. I live in Washington State.
Fifteen years her senior, I marveled at my relative’s matter-of-fact outlook on her future. She’s taking each moment as it comes, doing what she can as opportunities arise. She’s taking supplements prescribed by a naturopath which were okayed by the attending medical doctor. She’s had accupuncture and will soon receive massage treatments. Obviously she is continuing a healthy diet, which includes veggies and fresh- caught fish…straight from the Pacific Ocean by way of her husband’s fishing pole.
Grateful not to receive any special treatment, my younger relative was taken aback when the day after she informed her coworkers of her health crisis, her office inbox was piled higher than usual with paperwork. No slacking there that’s for sure. And yet it’s good to know she’s valued for what she brings to the workplace.
Her husband too seems intent upon the family carrying on as usual. When I asked where he was, I was told “Oh, he’s at the beach.” Now how can anyone shed tears when these two refuse to let a couple of dumb diseases burst their bubble. In fact, when I asked if she was still working regular hours I had to laugh when the answer came back as a resounding “I worked the whole month of December, while my husband was off.” I asked what he was doing. “He went to the beach.” With their son.
Life goes on…as it should. Something about which we wholeheartedly agreed, my relative who’s a very dear friend, and me.
Half the battle is deciding to actively participate in getting better. Maybe having children gives moms no choice in the matter. And that’s a good thing. A great thing, in fact. We give life to our children, and they give us a reason to go on living.
A stem cell transplant may be the eventual route taken on the road to complete rehabilitation. Guaranteed family and friends will sustain our loved one as she goes for the championship in…the Mother of all Super Bowls. I for one will be right there with her, pummeling the enemy into mush. Without hesitation, she exclaimed she’d bet on me to win the fight. I called to lift her spirits, instead she gave my ego a boost.
I promised some comic relief for it was made clear that…
…sadness was not part of the game plan.