cancer – day 128
I have this book my mom bought for me when I was a little kid, it’s called “Michelle,” and the story of it stayed with me my entire life. When I was home this week, I went into my boxes of books and found it and brought it back to Sac with me. I’ve only read a couple chapters so far, but I remember it being so very inspiring to me even as a child that I thought it would be a good thing to read again now, with more context of understanding.
Michelle was an 8-year-old girl with bone cancer in her leg. Her leg was amputated, and even though they were planning tons of chemo, she had only a 4% chance of survival going in. The spirit she maintained throughout treatment was amazing, and something I felt I needed to remind myself of. So I’m re-reading the book.
It’s a young adults book, so a quick unchallenging read but a compelling story good for the spirit. Two things really stand out about it to me, her bravery in undergoing all the treatments because they were required for bone cancer, and her ability to always be thoughtful of others and giving. There’s a line in the book that sums it up really, it’s her mom reflecting on some comments made about Michelle’s spirit and loving nature. “Michele seems to give without being concerned whether you can give anything in return, even in her pain she still cares for others.”
See? So there’s nothing unusual in this desire I have to use this experience to be a better, more giving person. Well, maybe it’s still a bit unusual in that maybe not everyone takes that approach to it, but it’s not like I’m the only person to ever try, and this little girl Michelle, she lived her young life that way, always giving even when she herself was in pain. It inspired me in grade school and still inspires me now. I wonder what happened to her longer term, after the time period of the book? When our Internet is back online Wednesday, maybe I can do some research and find out.
There are a couple of great metaphors or other quotes that stood out enough to me to get a post-it, so to save them for posterity in my chronicle of cancer thought . . .
“She watched the gray sky grow darker until rain wept onto the roses outside the window.”
“ . . . Michelle realized she’d learned much about herself and her world. She learned a lot about conquering fear . . . She learned that, as she had suspected, we are truly handicapped most cruelly by our own choices. ‘If you’re going to be brave,’ she quipped, ‘you’ve got to do something that scares you.’”
“You can’t let fear overcome you. You have to live each day and make the most out of it every minute by living on a day-to-day basis.”
“So many of the children she’s seen just seemed to lose their spark. The days and weeks of illness and limitations place on them so often beat the down, robbing them of their color and personality.”
This is the one that’s been on my mind this week. Losing my spark. It’s so hard to find it for phone calls, or to write with any upbeat momentum for the blog, and the spark isn’t there in my eyes in photos anymore. I used to always have a genuine spark of happiness in my eyes that would be captured in photos because I was genuinely enjoying the moment I was in. Now, with almost every moment a challenge, I feel like that spark is gone and my smiles are forced and tired. May all the good intentions and prayers and faith of so many wonderful people save me from that as a permanent fate. I can’t be like this forever.
So a good final quote that I just read now, after writing the above, then . . . from a poem near the end of the book . . .
“She’s smiling but it’s painful,
Courage demands a toll.
Her strength is somewhere deeper
In the unseen living, soul.”