Inspired by the beauty and humility of my bucolic scenic vacation surroundings, I am struck by the comparisons between cancer and a body of water - which are both interesting and allegoric.
When first discovered, the realities of cancer can be as small as a puddle in our path or as big as the panorama of the Pacific. In keeping with that same perspective, the process of treatment can be very shallow (minimal medical intervention with limited to no side effects) or many fathoms deep (revealing its true depths as time peals away layer upon layer of issues). And depending on your unique situation (because, in fact, no two cancer patients are alike - regardless of the similarity of their diagnoses) the journey can be seemingly easy to step through or nearly impossible to maneuver.
We all know the stories of the folks that have been fortunate enough to get through their process with little to no disruption of their day-to-day life or health. And regrettably, stories abound of the opposite scenario where each step forward is contrasted by one or more steps backward (or worse) and no intercession brings the relief or recovery so desperately desired.
Whether its a comparison to a mountain to be climbed, or a desert to be crossed, or a body of water to be navigated - we must find a way within ourselves to "tread water" until we reach a safer harbor, calmer seas, shallower depths or less rocky beaches. We will get wet and cold and tired, but if we persevere, the shoreline will emerge upon the horizon. And once we are returned to dry land, the healing will begin and that overwhelming feeling of near-drowning will subside. True, at any moment the "storm" of disease can swell up and pummel us, but once we have learned the mastery of the helm, successive squalls become easier to manage or at least increasingly familiar waters to sail.
