Why does a person share his story with the world? Is it in search of acceptance? Is it a desire for deeper connections? What makes up each of our stories? What purpose do these stories serve?

 

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view […] until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” – To Kill A Mockingbird

I felt relieved when I was diagnosed with stage 4B Hodgkins Lymphoma. My mother was crying. The surgeon was pointing to a scan with lymphnodes enlarged to the size of some of my organs. And the feeling I was overcome with, when he told me that I would need surgery followed by a consultation with an oncologist, was pure relief.

Now, don’t call the men in white coats on me just yet, there’s more to my story! I’d spent the preceding six months trying to find the source of persistent back pain, an enlarged inguinal lymphnode, and night sweats. I had actually convinced myself that it was psychosomatic – that I’d made it all up! Hearing that I was in fact quite sane, relieved me in a way that I cannot quite put into words.

In retrospect, the fact that I had to wait so long for my diagnosis was actually a blessing in disguise. Now why on earth would I say that having untreated cancer for six months was a blessing? Well you see, had I not reached the conclusion that I had lost my marbles prior to going into that doctor’s office that brisk January morning back in 2009, then I wouldn’t have also had that moment of relief that allowed me to take a cancer diagnosis with grace and ease.

There are thousands of lessons I’ve learned from this whole experience. From that moment, however, I learned this: we are not in control. Now I know that is an utterly terrifying statement, but let me follow it with this: I know who is. That relief was not just a product of coincidental lack of early diagnosis. God knew exactly what I needed to not just survive, but to thrive.

signed
safa