Rare Earth

Whoa, it hit me kind of hard this morning.  I stepped into the shower and that song, 'I Just Want To Celebrate' was in my head.  You know, the 1971 smash hit by Rare Earth.  And as I started paying attention to the words I realized that I haven't been celebrating each day.  I haven't been enjoying each day of my life.  I haven't even been appreciating them.

It was another difficult week in chemotherapy land.  I managed to make it through the blood count nadir this time without having to spend a night in the hospital, which is fantastic.  But almost every day for the past week has been really unpleasant.  I've had this intense stomach pain and nausea which have eliminated my appetite, caused me to throw up, and basically killed any and all joy I may otherwise have been experiencing.

On Saturday I went over to the hospital and they gave me a blood transfusion.  And now, a couple of days later, I'm feeling much better than I had been.  I'm still a bit queasy, but nothing like before.  So I guess when I 'heard' that song in my head this morning I was a little more receptive to the message.  What struck me right away was this emotional pang of sadness that I would spend my days in this beautiful world without appreciating them.  I immediately thought of my family and the huge amount of love we feel for each other.  And I couldn't imagine how I could possibly not appreciate every single moment I get to share with them.

The other thought I had was about having cancer.  There are a couple of things here.  First, if there's any lesson that someone with cancer, or any other potentially fatal illness, ought to learn, you would think it would be to appreciate each day, right?  I mean, what could possibly create a clearer perspective on how valuable each day is than the possibility of having them taken away?  And the truth is, I do feel this way.  I am indeed more grateful than I can express to still be alive and breathing, and to be connected in any way to all of you.  Because the second part of this of course is the reality that this might be it for me.  I could realistically spend the rest of my life in treatment, physically miserable, and then die, never having regained my full health.  I'm not saying I think that will happen, I don't.  But it is a possible outcome, and so I thought about it.  And that idea made me feel pretty sad as well.  Not sad that I could die, but sad that I could spend the rest of my life unhappy.

It's pretty hard to be happy when you feel like crap.  I'm not sure what it is, and maybe it's just me, but there just isn't much joy in feeling physical pain and discomfort all day and night.  It's hard to step out of it, is the problem.  It draws you in and sort of envelopes you in a dark and foggy haze, and you just have to wait it out.  I often find myself literally curled up in a ball, breathing my way through that fog, just letting the time pass until it's gone.  But the thing is, I'd rather live out each day, even if it happens to include experiencing that kind of pain, than to not be alive at all.  Part of that has to do with me believing that I won't feel this way for much longer, and I'll be able to return to a pretty normal life.  But part of it is simply my appreciation for the opportunity to experience life, no matter what it contains.  Any experience is better than no experience at all.  And that is the underlying concept that I can return to that allows me to appreciate each and every day, for exactly whatever it happens to be.  After all, it's a day that I get to live.  It's full of moments that I get to experience.  All of those moments provide me with the opportunity to learn, to grow as a person, or simply to take them in and let them inform who I am.

I may not feel like celebrating each day.  And frankly, for a lot of days, celebration would be a little much, don't you think?  Some days are just barely survivable.  But every single day is worth appreciating.  It's another gift, another chance to feel, to express, to be.  And so, I appreciate today.  I appreciate that I am here to experience it.  And that I can share that with you.

Love,
Chris