The last two weeks have been rough. One of my dearest sisters, Kristen, has been diagnosed with breast cancer. She is only 36, and is the proud mama to a 10, 7, 4, and 8-month old. She has just begun her chemo process. And, no, we do not have a family history of breast cancer. Not that it matters anyway. Kristen is still fighting for her life.
It is odd, but I've never been in this position before. You may ask, "What position?"
Well, I've never been the one, who sits on the sidelines watching the nastiness unfold. In the past, I've been the one who nearly died from severe preeclampsia twice, watched my precious fragile babies fend off prematurity, and agonized over the fact that both of my daughters have Alpha-1 Antitrypsin Deficiency which brings on liver and lung disease.
Me. I was in the thick of it. I cheated death. My girls cheated death.
Me. I've embraced and immersed myself into the existence I had not planned for myself at the outset.
Me. I've been the one in the fish bowl, where all peer in wondering how and what to do.
Being a supporter on the side lines is an odd place for me to be.
It doesn't quite seem to fit yet. I'm so used to my preeclampisa, prematurity, sensory processing disorder, and Alpha-1 Antitrypsin Deficiency awareness and advocacy starring roles. How on earth can I integrate another one? And a role where I get to feel powerless to provide any real help.
Gosh to integrate another role...hmmmmmmmmm. This is going to take some time, but I know myself. I'll embrace the pink. Kristen is so worth it, and so is her family.
Hopefully, my perspective on being the patient and dealing with health challenges will help Kristen in some small way.
Gosh, I want to take those cancer cells out of her in some magic way.
Life threw Kristen a curve ball, and I'm going to help her hit it out of the park.