When we began this journey a month ago it was during a flood situation. Tonight as David and I are spelling each other off, we are in the middle of a huge blizzard. There is already a half a foot of snow in only 2 hours. As long as we can get from the Inn to the Hospital - we will be fine. While waiting this afternoon I had a chance to reflect on a few of the gifts given to us on this journey, and I am going to attach my thoughts to the bottom of this blog. I hope you enjoy and perhaps have thoughts of your own to reflect on too.
Reflections from the Bedside
As I sit here and watch my daughter undergo her second round of chemotherapy, I have to marvel at her incredible strength and courage to go forward. We are a family that has always found a way to see the positives in a situation and to make the most of a learning experience. As I ponder how we got here, I am reflecting on some of my own adventures as a child.
My parents used to love taking us on canoe trips in the summer. We did not have one trip that ended up dry. We always found a way to finish wet. Sometimes we tipped at the start of the trip, and we went anyway. Once I slid down from a cave and over a cliff into the river and sat in a tarp for the entire voyage. Once we overturned in rapids and lost our entire load of coolers, cameras, fire starters, clothes etc. Some of our gear went downstream with some kids and one panicky adult ended up under a canoe and had to be rescued. Sometimes we blamed my poor dad for all of our misadventures (isn't that what girls do). Sometimes we blamed others (or myself in the case of the tarp adventure). But in the end, those adventures are dear memories of adventures taken, opportunities created, and learning accomplished. We learnt perseverance, determination, adventure seeking, courage, hope, teamwork, planning, and so much more, (yes Mom and Dad we did learn something).
Now I am looking at my daughter. Even though she knew what today would be like, (although it couldn’t really be much worse than the first round after surgery), she faced her fears a few days ahead. We prepared her queries, balanced her energies, talked about the days ahead, and planned for when round 2 was to be completed. She spent several days researching the best music for her ipod and collecting shows and movies she wanted to see. The mirror in her room has meaningful lyrics written all over it from her music research. The night before chemo she kept up with her friends on facebook and texting and found her strength, and she distracted herself with movies. She stood strong and proud as we entered the hospital and she looked the treatment straight in the eye. It was going to be a long day, and then it would be over and it would be behind her. Where did she get her resilience from? Where did her courage come from? How did she know how to prepare herself for this?
I looked back at all of the lessons Michellie had learned as a dancer, as a daughter of a studio owner, and as a member of a performing family. She was on stage from before she was born. Our motto was always, “the show must go on”. There were many days when this was a hard learned lesson. Michellie learned how to do her own makeup in a moving car in the dark on the way to a show by the time she was seven. She could do her own bun and prepare her costume bag with lists she created herself by the time she was ten. She hated to have choreography altered once it was delivered, and there was often protest for this, but it was always because she was meticulous with detail and wanted to be ready. When “things” happened before a performance, and they always did, Michellie knew she had to buck up and adapt. There might be tears, there might be tantrums, but she knew she had to deliver to the audience. Michellie was a trouper. She pushed through rough rehearsals, tiring schedules, programs she didn’t want to be a part of, and performances that weren’t always our best. But, her highlights for all of those experiences were her friends. If she got time to socialize with everyone she was happy. After a wonderful performance she would be the talkative one in the car on the way home. She would be the first to convince us of a celebration dinner or after party. She loved to dance, and she loved to dance with her friends.
What does dance have to do with cancer therapy? Firstly, as she prepared for the day, music was her top priority. She has a passion for lyrics, uplifting songs and she is the one in the family who loves country. She knows what music will be her sanctuary. Secondly, she knows that with some bad, there is a lot more good. She knows that she has to look forward into the treatments and get past them to the next adventures in life. Thirdly, while the bad stuff is happening, you need to find laughter. We joke about how she could tattoo hena designs on her head; her dance buddies sent her a list of the top 10 things to do to scare the nurses; the doctor tried telling her jokes; and we have laughed over the silliest things as a family. Lastly, she trusts the world around her to deliver to her only the best situations and opportunities. Cancer is ugly, but treatable. Hair loss is extremely hard and uncomfortable, but temporary. Nausea is nasty, but passes. Chemo is not forever, but new opportunities and adventures are.
When we had our toughest times performing or meeting the hectic schedule of the studio, I often wondered if I was doing the best for my family. But, we shared many wonderful evenings together. We shared friendships and fun together. We were close as a family while we were learning and preparing (even during power struggle arguments and opinion sharing). We traveled to many wonderful places and performed on the most incredible stages. All of our experiences we would not trade. And this is how cancer is now. It is here, and we are facing it together, and Michellie is showing the character of a professional dancer as she moves through the stages and patterns of getting better. As a family we could not have given her more opportunity for being prepared than what we experienced together in the studio. We are so proud of our daughter and the woman she is becoming.
Now, as we all look forward into our future, we just need to find out if her hair will return straight and blonde, or will a brunette take over with massive curls? What we do know is that Michellie will be able to face any challenge that life puts before her with grace, integrity, dedication, sincerity, hope and love. Her courage and strength will find a home in her life that will help others to cope with their own challenges, and the dancer in Michellie will find new music to match the new adventures that will be before her. Anonymous once wrote "To Dance is to Live...To Live is to Dance".
