Saturday, February 6, 2010

Borrowed Time


I have a friend who is battling stage 4 pancreatic cancer.

There is no stage 5.

Battling is not the right word.

I'm deeply troubled by this, because she is my age. Not because I see myself in her place, but because she has so much more left to do. She has so much talent. She is absolutely an original. She really thinks, which is such a rarity these days. She is an artist. She is a midwife (in training). She lives completely off the land. Or rather, she did. Now she's living with her parents and going to doctor's visits while trying to remain true to herself.

Is it the Tong Ren that is shrinking the cancer or the two sessions of chemotherapy she agreed to undergo? Is the special diet her alternative medicine practitioners have her on that is reducing her cancer and inflammation markers to normal levels? Is it her unbelievable strength that is helping her body combat such improbable odds? I have no idea, but it's got her doctors wondering. She has done the impossible - her doctors are asking about her alternative medicine practices, because they are completely shocked that she's not only not dead, but improving.

She's got physicians thinking outside the box. Is that the point? Has she done what she was put here to do? I don't know, but it is impressive. All I know for certain is that she is remarkable and I would miss her terribly if she were to die.

Every night when I lay my head on my pillow I reflect on how fortunate I am to have Jason and Helena in my life. I always thank G-d for the day and ask for just one more day with them. Please, just one more day. This ritual reminds me that we are mortal, and helps me to always re-evaluate how I'm doing as a wife and mother. If you were given just one more day, how did you do today?

Kol Tov.

(The photo is from a BBC News article about pancreatic cancer - it's a pancreatic cancer cell)