The little things are often bigger than we give them credit for. There’s triumph in getting out of bed and staying out of it all day. There’s dignity and strength in showing up to treatment each day. Taking a shower and getting dressed, making dinner, eating dinner. Each moment is a celebration, each day is a new triumph of existence and life. Some days my only accomplishment is feeding the cats. Some days it’s staying sane in the face of grief and the terror I feel waiting for the results of my next scans. Is it radiation necrosis? Is my brain being eaten by the radiation that killed off Larry (my tumor)? Has my cancer come back a third time? Breathing through each day and surviving daily life is cause for celebration. It’s the (big) little things that give meaning and hope to each day.
by Carol Anne Pagliotti
You can read more of Carol Anne’s writing at SoapBoxVille.
How would you respond to the writing prompt, ‘a moment’? “Everybody has a moment when you know nothing is going to be the same ever again, when one part of your life ends and another begins. This is when you know that the changes, for better or worse are going to be coming hard and fast. You’re on a roller coaster and all you can do is hope that your safety belt stays fastened and that you’ll come out in one piece. These moments are what make us who we are, and I know I wouldn’t be quite me without mine.”
This writing comes directly from one of our participants in our Unspoken Ink Creative Writing Group for young adult cancer survivors. The participants are meeting for 2 hours each week, for 8 weeks during our Summer 2018 session. This writing has not been edited since its original creation, showing the wonderfully raw and powerful prose coming from the courageous writing group participants each week. If you’d like to sign up for future sessions, please email firstname.lastname@example.org or sign up on our interest form.