Pink Journey

So, what’s it like, having breast cancer?

It’s a journey –

A journey that starts with a crash,

A mind-freezing, heart-shaking, oddly silent one that

Alters your small, personal universe forever.

You never saw it coming and never thought it would be you.

It replays a million times over in numb slow-motion clips on the

“This-is-really-happening” news

While you try to process what just happened,

And even more mind-stretching,

The big what-will-happen-to-me-now?

You know – really know – that nothing is a surprise to God, and

He has allowed this change in direction for a reason, or many reasons, and

He walks right beside you, and

He catches all your tears in a bottle, and

He will never waste your pain.

You dread so strongly the knee-jerk rally of the very ones

Who will be most hurt by what’s hurting you.

You watch them heedlessly throw themselves

Under the speeding cancer bus with you.

You want to try to stop them,

To not let cancer crush them, too.

You read books, you watch movies, you sleep –

Anything to avoid those thoughts you just can’t think.

You promise yourself and your family and your oncologist

You’ll do whatever it takes to get well.

Give up a breast?

“Go ahead – take both.”

Chemotherapy?

“I want the red devil –

I hear it’s the strongest.”

Your hair comes out by the fist fulls one day while you’re simply washing it.

You try to convince yourself it doesn’t matter, and you knew it was going to happen,

But it matters anyway.

You have no appetite and next to no energy.

It takes a huge effort to stand, and

Each step is a marathon,

But you tell yourself, (and, anyone who asks),

“I’m getting better every day.”

And slowly, you do, Lord willing.

You heal.

You hope.

You try new things.

You welcome new mornings.

You reconstruct.

You rely on people.

You love deeply.

You practice gratitude.

You keep going,

(and people forget you’re still going), and

You keep going,

(and people ask when you’ll be done), and

You keep going,

(even if you wish you were done with going), and

You keep going,

(and you pray for a permanent cure), and

Along the way,

On the journey,

When you see

Pink ribbons and

Fundraising and

Flowers and

Cards and

Casseroles and

Surprises and

Well-placed smiles,

Well, you know what you’re really seeing

Is God,

And you know you’re not

Alone.