A Superhero's Kryptonite

We are all born wearing a superhero cape.  We come into the world believing we will make a difference.  We cry, expecting to be responded to, expecting to make an impact and change a situation that needs improving (namely, our empty stomach or dirty diaper).

As toddlers and young children, it is no different.  We pretend we are creators of our own worlds, rescuers of bad situations, mothers to babies, builders of towers, makers of gourmet foods and drivers of racing cars.

Moving on to middle school, we begin to have dreams of greatness.  We will one day become rock stars, models, singers, dancers.  We will be playing in the major leagues, the quarterback, the fastest, best looking and we will influence our world.

High school promises once again to prepare us for greatness.  We look to prepare ourselves not for a mere job that will allow us to make ends meet, but for a career, an identity, a chance to make something of ourselves and influence those around us.  We graduate with ideals of doing life differently than the generations before that sadly had to plod behind those before them.  We will go a different route, blaze a trail, be original and thereby, free the world from the norms of drudgery it has so far known.  We will be amazing!

Invincible.

Life begins to settle in a bit more in the next stages, perhaps.  We get married, maybe have children, work on our careers.  But we feel other people becoming dependent on us.  We are needed, we are valued and we are making a difference, even if it is only in the heart of a 2 year old child or as a cog on the turning wheels of a corporation, we recognize need and our superhero capes, though shortened over time, still live on.

But for some of us, there comes a kryptonite.  Cancer.  And I imagine this may not be too different from any number of various diseases people are diagnosed with.  They have this ability to disarm us, rip the capes from our backs, knock the shields from our arms and wrestle our weapons from our hands.  We are left standing helpless against it.  It weakens our immunity, strips us of our power, and makes us one of the very people we were sent into the world to rescue, to help.

There are few other ways to describe the helpless feeling, the suddenly stripped defenses we feel when we receive the news.  And each waiting period for diagnosis, for the next step in the process, for test results, appointments and treatments is a further wearing away of strengths we thought we once possessed.  

Soon we find ourselves operating within a whole new set of rules.  People are telling us to "take care of yourself" and to "take all thet time you need".  They tell us, "I will be praying for you" and "let me know if you need anything, anything at all".  

Wait!  Superheros take care of other people, they don't spend day after day worrying about themselves, or their own well-being.  They go out and do stuff, and help out.  They make a difference by bettering the lives of the people around them.  It feels as if someone has reversed the polarity of our world.  Wasn't I just impacting my world for the better yesterday, and yet today we are discussing surgeries, radiation and medications?

No longer invincible.

And suddenly, we are no longer sure that the good guy will always win.  Suddenly all those dreadful things we hear on the news could just as easily be us.  We now swim in a tremulous ocean of potential disasters, whereas yesterday, we stood securely on the shore.   Fears and worries enter into our minds, that before we would easily dismiss, not giving them mind due to our busy days and plans for moving forward.

I know that one day, I will be there again....working to make the world a better place, moving forward in life and taking an active role as caregiver, friend, wife, mother.  But right now I am still reeling a bit.  I am too close to the kryptonite that continues to weaken.  I can still see my superhero cape torn in shreds and lying before me.  Right now it's too raw, to real to think past it much.

Because I have faith, I believe as it is written that there is power in weakness.  Our weakness, God's power.  What choice do I have?  I do not know how this works, and many moments I confess very little hope.  But I do remember a man who once wore a cape, wore a thorn of crowns on his head, and had  rods of steel put into his hands.  And yet, somehow, in his kingdom of backwards thinking, he changed the world. 

The Crisis Connection

It's interesting how a shared crisis can bring people together, no more than that.  It can bond people together in a way that is unspoken, yet very real and strangely connected.

I have cancer.  No, that isn't quite right.  There is a small lump in my left breast that has been tested positive for cancer.  Invasive ductal carcinoma is what it is called.  But my whole body does not have cancer.  My whole being does not have cancer.  I am a very healthy person.  But this lump, it does have cancer.  And since the moment I found out about this, I was inducted into a special, amazing, and widely varied group of people.  We are people who have experienced cancer.  And unless you have been through it, there is no explaining it.

In the grocery store today, I ran into an old friend of mine.  I had known he had struggled wit cancer in the past and he informed me that his cancer has returned.  I could see it in his face, and the way he talked and even the way he spoke the words.  There was a recognition there of something I am also going through.  There were the slight eye shifts, the gentle tug at the chin and the corners of his mouth that let me know exactly what he was feeling.

So far, I haven't made it a point to tell a lot of people about my cancer.  It's not that I don't want them to know necessarily, but I don't want cancer to be who I am.  People know me as a person who is kind, or funny or whatever.  I do not want to be known as the person with cancer.  But as I spoke with my friend, I felt compelled to let him know that I understood, that I was part of the "in" crowd when in came to the unspoken griefs one wrestles with in this situation.

It has interested me that as people find out, they feel compelled to connect you with other people who have also experienced this unfortunate crisis.  And it is helpful.  It is encouraging to see so many healthy, happy people walking around who have once experienced the same thing you are now going through.  They understand your struggles in ways others cannot and can offer a knowing look as well as a "you will get through this" that becomes much more than a platitude.

I am thankful for the brave men and women who have shared with me their stories and struggles.  And I know there will be more.   I am thankful for the advancements in modern medicine that allows so many people to become survivors rather than victims.  And each day, each moment that grabs me with panic or worry remembrance, I think of these people and it makes it easier to take the next step, knowing I am in good company.