If I could go back in time and fix something in my life, it would be the very day my ear infections started in July 1984. If I was able to take my knowledge of the future back with me, I would paw at my ears and kick and scream and MAKE somebody, anybody, notice that there was something else wrong with me, something else other than the stupid cancer. If I knew then what I knew now…
But it is no use thinking like this. What is done is done. I know that someday, all this will seem like a dream, like it was somebody else’s life. Just minutes of a harsh reality in the face of heaven. Right now, though, it matters very much.
IF I could go back in time, I’d imagine that there would be consequences. Maybe things would spin out of control in my other life. There has to be a reason this happened. Maybe, in a strange way, I was saved from some horrible fate that would have taken place if this hadn’t happened. God only knows. I trust Him to have a reason for this. I was so lost and confused for the longest time. Angry too. But I’ve let it go. I know that if I was just like everybody else, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I wouldn’t be as strong. Because there wouldn’t have been any consequences (except scoliosis, for sure. Eff that. Even Sarah Michelle Gellar-Prinze has that, and she was Buffy the Vampire Slayer for years and years. I could have dealt with just scoliosis. As it is, I have to deal with my vulnerability – I prefer that word to “inability” but it still doesn’t sound good. I can’t win.)
At least this way, I get to live. I get to love the people around me. I’m still here for a reason. Maybe helping to find a cure for neuroblastoma and other childhood cancers is part of it. It has to be. I don’t want to be somebody who believes in everything but herself. It sounds funny, but I think that is my problem. I need to believe in my own capabilities in order to break free of my limitations. It’s easier said then done. I am a born procrastinator. I get fired up about something and it lasts for a short while, but only a short while, and I am back to floundering again. Doing nothing of import. Wasting my days away being lazy. Eff laziness!
That cycle needs to stop. I may be a born procrastinator, but I am also a born writer. If I could believe in that even the tiniest bit, there is no telling where I could go in life. Don’t tell me the sky’s the limit when there are footprints on the moon. I am looking at it this way: I won’t get anywhere by procrastinating. But by writing… oh, the places I’ll go!