We think we have so much time in the beginning and besides, we’re so thrown off course by the diagnosis, saying the right things, and having the tough conversations aren’t even a consideration.
Then there’s the planning of what comes next. Will there be surgery, will there be chemo therapy, how will that fit into the days that used to be filled with “stuff?”
And the time slips away. Before we know it, it’s been weeks, then months, and all of sudden you’re celebrating surviving cancer a year out or more. Maybe the doctors were wrong, maybe there will be more time than they thought. And the conversations are put off again because time seems to be on our side.
Try to imagine Cancer in an hour glass. When the sand starts to slide through the narrow opening, there’s so much of it. There’s so much time in the top of the glass. We hardly feel the pressure to talk about lives shared as kids growing up, or as sons and daughters or as soul mates.
We just do what we have to do to give that life another day.
Until something changes….cancer makes a move and we’re caught off guard. The clock stops. The calendar ends. The life is gone.
Who forgot to turnover the hour glass? We need more time.
April 13, 2011 @ 8:51 pm
Time is a tricky thing. I am reminded that when you are in a hospital caring for someone, you soon lose track of time and dates. That’s why they call it “hospital psychosis.” When dealing with life-threatening illness, I don’t think you have the luxury of being able to focus on the hourglass properly.
April 12, 2011 @ 9:11 am
The sands slip through, the time passes for each of us, every day. We just happen to have been given an advanced notice of our mortality.
You caregivers have done all that could ever be asked from anyone, sacrificed and given the full measure. Some have lost the one they loved, but that loved one knew you had done all you could for them and had felt that love you gave to them until the very end.
Forget not that that time is slipping for each of us every day, forget not what is important to you, don’t forget the love that made you, that’s about all any of us can do.
April 11, 2011 @ 10:50 pm
Kathie: Please-just breathe. Jim would not want you to be victimized. I can’t tell you that the loneliness will subside or that the pain well simply fade away. Remember how Leroy lived-this is a life worth living. The big lesson is not to waste a second. My Penny would not allow pity parties. We were together and we shared the mistakes with the victories. Much was said in silence. This is no one’s fault-especially not yours. I know-easier said than done.Maybe you should talk with someone.
I’m searching for refuge in peaceful prayer tonight. So many suffer from cancer-children,patients,families,and caregivers. An army of heavy hearts-armed with grit,love, and measured hope. I have seen smiles here.Maybe some of them lasted only for a stolen moment,but they live forever-pure,genuine, and beautiful.
My friend for twenty plus years-another James-recently diagnosed with stage III esophagus cancer- Christ’s peace.
April 11, 2011 @ 7:29 pm
Our community here continues to pray for a little boy who just turned 1 this month. He was diagnosed with AML in November. Since that time, his parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles have spent the majority of the time at the hospital. He’s had 3 brain surgeries, and he is fighting 3 infections. The doctors are hoping to finish this last IV chemo and then give him chemo directly into his brain and spinal cord to fight the cancer cells hiding there.
Another friend posted about a 7 year old boy with an inoperable brain tumor. His parents took him to St. Jude’s today- hoping that the team there can help him.
With children, there is never enough time. Cancer breaks families apart.
April 11, 2011 @ 6:32 pm
This is so on the money for cancer patients and their families. When the diagnosis is given and the doctor tells you it’s a matter of time, no matter how much that time is, you think it’s a lot of time and you will live it to the fullest. Then you are consumed by doctors appointments and treatments and the sand slips through at an alarmingly fast pace and you have forgotten to live. The pain of that last grain of sand going through is still so fresh and I just don’t know where all the other grains went…how did I not notice them moving from the top of the glass to the bottom?