Life Lesson 37: When cancer comes running at you from the darkest of places, fight back

The paperwork hung loosely in his hand as he shuffled out of the doctor’s office and into the parking lot. He couldn’t remember just where his car was parked and even more significantly, he couldn’t even recall what his car looked like. What was he driving these days? He sat down hard on the bench just to the right of the entrance door, realizing suddenly that he didn’t even have a vehicle now. After being diagnosed with stage II diabetes, and consequently diabetic retinopathy, he had given up his driver’s license just before his wife passed away. He had arrived at his appointment via the Aroostook Regional Transportation bus.    He rose to his feet and the papers drifted to the ground, scattering like party napkins around him. He toyed with the idea of stomping them into confetti; destroying all evidence of a diagnosis he could not and would not accept. He stooped to gather the thin sheets of paper, undaunted by the familiar arthritic aches and pains. His aching bones were no match for cancer. Bladder cancer. He began to tremble.
Where was that damned bus, anyway? He sat back down, the paperwork now clutched angrily in his fist; the same fist he would shake angrily toward the heavens as he reprimanded God for abandoning him. He began to cry softly; his chin resting upon his once strong and sculpted chest. He needed to have more blood drawn. He was going to be seeing a urologist and an oncologist. Would he need surgery? How much longer did he have to live?
He heard the bus pull up and he stood on shaky, frightened legs. He would go home and call his children first and then he would call his brother. Settling down in the bus seat, he smoothed out the lab orders and sighed heavily. Why? What was he being punished for? Cancer was never in his plans and he just never imagined it could or would happen to him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as the comfort of the cradle-like jostling of the bus gently wrapped its arms around him.
“May I join you?” Without opening his eyes, he nodded his head. The voice was familiar to him and he slid over to make room for his friend. The friend placed a firm hand on his knee. “Everything OK?” he asked.
He opened his eyes and nodded slowly. “I’m OK,” he replied. “Just went to the doctor. I seem to have bladder cancer.” He tapped his finger lightly on his paperwork; a tired smile on his face.
His friend shook his head. “The Big C, huh? Good news is, it’s treatable. It is no longer a death sentence.” He reached over and took his hand. “You call the kids. You call your brother. You call me. And you fight. You fight it with all you have. And remember, it will never win, because you are so much more than this one thing. Do you hear me?”
He nodded and then leaned in toward his dear friend’s shoulder, where he placed his head and wept. They held each other for a while and the bus continued on beneath a brilliant and promising October sky.
Note: October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Let’s continue our quest for a cure for breast cancer and for all cancers. And let’s take comfort in knowing that we are winning.
Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.