When people ask about my attitude about Diana's prognosis, I say I am cautiously optimistic. There's no real point in thinking the worst is going to happen. Yet it seems like thinking about the worst somehow prepares you if it does come to that.
Well, if I've learned anything big out of this life so far, it's how you can imagine all you want about what happens next. What actually happens is sometimes completely different from how you thought it would be. Whether it's for the best or for the worst, imagination remains as imagination.
My head is not in sand here, but there's no reason not to think about positive outcomes. This is a completely treatable form of lymphoma that was caught early. Why should I get into bed with despair?
I will not lie though: every day since the diagnosis has had its emotional ups and downs. As much as she stays strong (and those closest to her do the same), there are times when things feel overpowering. Chemotherapy is not some easy-breezy walk in the park. Self-injections are not fun. Feeling helpless and broken are not easy thoughts to shake off.
Friends and family have reached out to us with prayers and emotional support, and they are most welcome. Seems like everyone closest to her is trying to help one another out while also dealing with the situation individually. I can't help but smile when I see her smile or sense positive vibes in her tone of voice over the phone, text, or IM.
The hardest part of all is seeing someone so committed to meeting goals have to put everything on hold for an unforeseen amount of time. She hopes to get back to work and school soon, but nothing is set in stone. She gives a lot of love and receives plenty in return. Still, the unfairness of the situation is hard to take.
Attitude is such an important part of the cancer battle. I've already heard that from plenty of cancer survivors. I strongly hope I'll be hearing that from her in the future.
Well, if I've learned anything big out of this life so far, it's how you can imagine all you want about what happens next. What actually happens is sometimes completely different from how you thought it would be. Whether it's for the best or for the worst, imagination remains as imagination.
My head is not in sand here, but there's no reason not to think about positive outcomes. This is a completely treatable form of lymphoma that was caught early. Why should I get into bed with despair?
I will not lie though: every day since the diagnosis has had its emotional ups and downs. As much as she stays strong (and those closest to her do the same), there are times when things feel overpowering. Chemotherapy is not some easy-breezy walk in the park. Self-injections are not fun. Feeling helpless and broken are not easy thoughts to shake off.
Friends and family have reached out to us with prayers and emotional support, and they are most welcome. Seems like everyone closest to her is trying to help one another out while also dealing with the situation individually. I can't help but smile when I see her smile or sense positive vibes in her tone of voice over the phone, text, or IM.
The hardest part of all is seeing someone so committed to meeting goals have to put everything on hold for an unforeseen amount of time. She hopes to get back to work and school soon, but nothing is set in stone. She gives a lot of love and receives plenty in return. Still, the unfairness of the situation is hard to take.
Attitude is such an important part of the cancer battle. I've already heard that from plenty of cancer survivors. I strongly hope I'll be hearing that from her in the future.
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