My mom was diagnosed with colon cancer in April 1998. She fought bravely and was determined to win this battle. Unfortunately, cancer is unmerciful, and this was one battle she could not win. Here in her own words is how she felt about " The Dragon".
THE DRAGON
by Niya Jones
"It's colon cancer." Not the words I had been hoping to hear. Ugly words that couldn't be taken back. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." Not true. These words hurt. They cut deep. Like giant claws.
I had known for awhile that something wasn't right. But I ignored the symptoms. No one likes to talk about rectal bleeding. That was personal. And I was too busy to worry about such things. Besides, if I didn't acknowledge it, it would go away...wouldn't it?
It didn't go away. It got worse. I became tired. Drained. Too exhausted to do all the things that had kept me so busy and that seemed so important. Like some persistent annoyance that refuses to be ignored, the bleeding and overwhelming fatigue was dominating my life. Letting me know I was no longer in control.
The word colonoscopy made me cringe. I faced it with dread. Why was this whirlwind of doctors, hospitals invasive tests and feelings of fear happening to me? The diagnosis..."it's colon cancer"...was an echo that drummed in an ominous beat. Where had this cancer come from? There was no history of it in my family. I was a vegetarian. Had been for years. I had never smoked and I didn't drink alcohol. I started my mornings with tai-chi and I loved walking the mountains where I lived. I practiced the old ways of healing and living close to nature. My life was full of peace. Read the health magazines. My life could have been a cover story for any of them. I suddenly felt foreign to myself. My body had been invaded. The Dragon had entered.
I began to think of the cancer as The Dragon. Not the likes of "Puff" or of children's stories, but a fearsome creature, straight out of dark myths and legends. A creature out to kill. And it already had a deep hold on me. But did it think I would go down without a fight? Without aiming a sword and striking a mighty blow? Like warriors of old, I prepared for battle. I, too, was out for the kill.
Surgery. Chemo. The care, prayers, and support of those who loved me. The prayers of strangers. The tests looked good. The Dragon had vanished. I was back in control. There was even a positive side. Lessons had been learned throughout the long fight, from a teacher who had been merciless. I was no longer so smug with the idea of my own immortality. And even though I always respected life and honored it, I had now learned how to truly celebrate it. It was like looking at everything through pure crystal...clear, detailed, magnified.
I love you. Words said more often. More openly. Lots of hugs. Don't always assume that people know how you feel. Tell them. Show them. And it went both ways. others learned not to assume, also. Funny it took a dragon to teach such lessons.
I had so many plans. I felt wonderful. Euphoric. I had faced the dragon and won. Life was good.
But I was new at being a warrior. I fell into a false sense of security. I had turned my back on the enemy. The Dragon had not vanished, after all. Instead, it had retreated, planning a new strategy. Once more it grabbed deep. Thinking to consume.
I was unnerved and shaken by its sudden reappearance. It had taken the full arsenal...and still survived. More surgery. Again skilled hands, lethal blades. Radiation. The lair destroyed. The prayers and support of those who loved me continued. Love...one of the greatest healers of all. Once more the tests looked good. No sign of The Dragon.
I celebrated my body, telling it how much I loved it. Thanking it for all the years it had served me. We were survivors, and I realized had it not been for The Dragon I may never have become so fully aware of this most intimate companion that housed my soul. I paid more attention to what my body was saying to me. To the stories inside. To the miracle it performed daily. We celebrated...my body and I.
The Dragon was impatient. It did not wait so long before it showed itself with stronger aggression. Feelings of great weariness surfaced. Battle fatigue, some would call it. But you don't win battles by waving the white flag. The warrior within rallied, a seasoned veteran now. The third battle is just beginning, and as with each of us, the future is a mystery for me. I do not go into it alone. My heart's partner, my husband and very best friend, hold tight to my hand. Never once has he let go. There is modern medicine and physicians of trust. Physicians who care. My faith is a banner I hold high. There is so much love from family and friends that I wonder how anyone could ever be so blessed. My body, a sacred gift from God, speaks volumes...and I listen. We continue to celebrate...my body and I. Each day is to be cherished. Never wasted. I honor the joy.
Cancer is a formidable disease. It is a terrifying dragon that seeks to ruin and destroy. But I am so much more than the cancer. I am blessed...and the celebration continues.