Apparently, one in six Americans will develop some variety of cancer in their lifetime. Scientists have peered through their microscopes and cultivated petri dishes for decades, looking for a way to cure, or at least subdue, those little mutant terrorists.
Advances have been made, such as the development of chemotherapy. The essence of chemo is that it sets up a horse race: will the chemo kill the cancer before it kills you, or will it kill you before it kills the cancer? Las Vegas whales, maybe you should have a cancer casino to place wagers on who will win - the chemo or the cancer.
When I had stage 3B cancer three years ago, in which I barely beat the chemo, people lauded me for my determination to show those little bastard cells who was boss. Since I am alive to tell the tale, one could say, "Job well done," with a little help from my friends, as the Beatles would croon.
But now we have a different tale, one where the terrorists have snuck in so silently, armed so mightily, that the territory has been overrun as quickly as the Chinese invaded Tibet. In this case, nothing but the almighty force of miracles and perhaps a landmark drug will drive the enemy out of my husband's body.
The winner here is Love. This wonderful man has fully grasped the situation. He understands that every second counts as long as there is breath in his body. He smiles readily, appreciates absolutely everyone (which only Buddhas can usually accomplish), and only wants to savor the essence.
Looking at the big picture, can we call this a tragedy?
Advances have been made, such as the development of chemotherapy. The essence of chemo is that it sets up a horse race: will the chemo kill the cancer before it kills you, or will it kill you before it kills the cancer? Las Vegas whales, maybe you should have a cancer casino to place wagers on who will win - the chemo or the cancer.
When I had stage 3B cancer three years ago, in which I barely beat the chemo, people lauded me for my determination to show those little bastard cells who was boss. Since I am alive to tell the tale, one could say, "Job well done," with a little help from my friends, as the Beatles would croon.
But now we have a different tale, one where the terrorists have snuck in so silently, armed so mightily, that the territory has been overrun as quickly as the Chinese invaded Tibet. In this case, nothing but the almighty force of miracles and perhaps a landmark drug will drive the enemy out of my husband's body.
The winner here is Love. This wonderful man has fully grasped the situation. He understands that every second counts as long as there is breath in his body. He smiles readily, appreciates absolutely everyone (which only Buddhas can usually accomplish), and only wants to savor the essence.
Looking at the big picture, can we call this a tragedy?
Quite beautiful Carole. Thanks for sharing Michael's magnificent mindset. I see his smile everywhere and pray that everyone can understand and appreciate life as Michael does.
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