Learning curve

Many of the ones I care about in this world feel very helpless right now, but are, in fact, the opposite. I'm starting to understand just how little it takes to make a difference in someone's life. When I do laundry, or read, or get ready in the morning, I often stop to think of all the people who are thinking of me, and who are sending their strong, positive energy my way...and I think I can actually feel it.

These last three weeks, I've learned a lot about human reactions and coping mechanisms --it's odd just how many different ways we deal with this sort of crisis. Some feel debilitating fear and try to hide it, some feel overwhelming sadness and can't hide it, some feel anger and rage and want to fight this for me, some refuse to accept and pretend nothing has changed, some want to know every detail of every part of it, and some just want to take care of me like a parent would. Whatever the reaction, I now understand that it's a reflection of ourselves, not on the person in crisis. It matters little what emotional road we"re on, because they all lead to caring and support. My whole life, I've never felt so loved. If someone told me my disease would go away if I gave it all up, I would say no way.

I also realise I'm very limited in my abilities to help you through this because, lets face it, I can't relate --I don't have a loved one who is fighting cancer. Odd how that is. The only concrete way I can do anything for you is to let you help me, which might make you feel less helpless. I'm trying very hard to put aside my fears of seeming needy and demanding (part of the baggage from my childhood), and am getting better at asking for stuff I need. And for you, I've found this site: http://willow.org/. And this song: http://www.thesubmarines.com/.