At a very young age, I had already read or at least been taught, maybe even in electuary school, that a person facing a terminal or possibly terminal disease go through certain emotional phases ending with acceptance. I distinctly remember that I would be the one person who would never reach the acceptance phase, wanting to cling to life always. But alas, I have, in general, arrived at that state and once again, I find that I am not as unique as I once thought I was.
My doctors have not given me a death sentence only in that they are not certain how much time I have. I think they will have a better understanding of that after tomorrows PET scan. They have expressed their opinions that the cancer is not curable, conditions that firmly place me on the course of the known process of acceptance. What’s strange now is understanding how a person can arrive at the acceptance of their own impending death (I do not believe that my is a for gone conclusion – and I hold out much hope).
I mean, how can a person actually accept such bad circumstances and do so in a generally happy disposition? I have thought about it a great deal. You know, we all learn early in life that an eventual death is utterly inescapable. And while we may go though a period of depression regarding our eventual mortality, we all come to accept this aspect of life in our youths. It is never pleasant to any of us, but this knowledge does not prevent us from carrying on productive lives and accomplishing a great deal. Very few young people simply fold up and do not live life simply because they have been given the knowledge that it will eventually end. Life itself gives all of us the ability to proceed with a happy and productive existence in spite of Natures seemingly cruel characteristic, we will ALL do so with the knowledge that we will eventually come to an end, at least here on Earth.
I think that when we are diagnosed with a terminal or potentially terminal disease, we simply go though a more thorough process of acceptance than we went through earlier in our lives. And just like the earlier, undetailed process, we will have times of weakness and also great strength – a strength that allows us to carry on with the lives we have in a manner most pleasing and rewarding to us as individuals. It appears to me now, to be the same way in any given latter acceptance process – the one in which some, if not all of the details are filled in. Once the acceptance process has been matriculated and we have arrived at a general state of acceptance, it seems to make only a little difference that we know how and when we will depart.
Still, acceptance of a terminal or possibly terminal disease does not remove our desire to live, nor lead us to desire less time rather than more. I want to live as long as I can, and within and about my acceptance, I have sadness and fear. I have a deep desire that this had not happened and I would much rather live a normal length of time. But these things do not cancel out the acceptance I have found and am finding.
And there is always hope. The disease I have been diagnosis with will eventually take nearly all of its victims. But an analysis of the data, statistics and mathematics of the disease indicates that it doesn’t take everyone. Therefore, there is no reason I couldn’t be one of the ones who survives it.
So as odd as it may sound, there comes in a persons heart the need for a delicate balance between acceptance and hope. Both emotions are greatly important for a rewarding life with this disease – but it seems they may counter each other. For example, I have a lot of hope that my PET scan tomorrow will show no remaining cancer (results to be known on February 23). Those hopes and desires, if not realized, will cause me to go back into the acceptance process with great fear and trepidation. And it is like this on a lesser scale, every day. And this does not cancel any acceptance I had already attained.
I suppose that it stems from my desire to live, but also my desire to accept my circumstances and live as best as I can with the least amount fear and anxiety as possible. It seems to me, it is fear and anxiety that kill us prematurely and never the disease itself.
For me know, the symptom of the disease I dread the most is fear, and I will do all that I can not to experience it in levels that damage the life that I have or prevent me from accomplishing the things I want to do in my life: whether it is a life of three more years, or forty.
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