Both my mum and dad have had cancer in the last two years. My mum went through chemo, radiation therapy and several surgeries. My dad went through chemo and surgery. For a while, we were told there was nothing they could do for him, but now they are both cancer-free.
So, according to the rest of the world, I should be dancing for joy. I'm not, though.
They've been left weak and broken by this experience. None of them are able to work right now and my mum for sure will never work again. They are in a lot of pain, take a lot of medicine. They have the bodies of old people. Their moods are not to be trusted, since one minute they can be happy, the next they can be angry or crying.
I'm angry. Angry that this had to happen to them, to my parents, my family. Angry that it is actually depressing to be around them. Angry that they don't have any money anymore. Angry that no one understands...
But in that anger there is also strength. I know what I can endure now.
More than I ever thought possible. I understand things some of my friends can't even imagine. I'm proud of myself for being able to mantain school, friends, social events. I also know my limits - I know when I need a break from it all. I'm glad because I've learned who my true friends are, whom I can count on. It's not all bad.
Even though there are days when I wish I could turn back time and make sure none of this ever happened... I can accept it. I can live with the anger, because I know that's not all I've got.
There's an old Danish saying that goes something like this: "You have to walk on the ground, even if it's red-hot." I think it means that we have to acknowledge and accept loss and the threat of loss with all its positive and negative consequences - no matter how red-hot they are. And when we do crisis becomes a part of live and not something we need to forget or sweep under the carpet.
Page updated 11 August 2015