A lot of people hear the word “cancer” and think the worst. Yes, it’s a deadly disease that can kill, but a lot of people survive it. Some people go on for decades. And you can do a lot of living in a decade.
When I was getting my degree in education, I did one of my teaching practicums in the pediatrics department of a large city hospital. I met a number of children who were going through cancer treatments. Later on, I volunteered at another large teaching hospital, again in the pediatrics department. That’s where I met Scotty.
Scotty was a pip. Five years old and constantly on the move, unless the chemotherapy knocked him for a loop.
One day, Scotty’s oncologist told me that the little boy was in critical condition. He wasn’t expected to survive through the weekend. His vital signs were poor. He was in intensive care. I drove in, feeling that I owed it to Scotty to say good-bye, and to support his mother, who had had a very tough time of watching her little boy go through this ordeal. When I arrive at the ICU, I could see that little figure in the bed, hooked up to all those machines. Scotty was pale. He was all alone there. I took a deep breath and went in. I took the chair by his bedside and I greeted him with a cheerful hello. Scotty was feeling very tired, but he was still Scotty. Slowly, but surely, he began to rally a little. We talked about how sad everyone seemed to be around him. He told me he dreamed about an angel. The angel told him he couldn’t die, because his mommy would be too sad. Was this really an angel, or was it Scotty hearing his mother crying by his bedside while he slept? What really seems to matter most is that something inside Scotty clicked. Whether it was an angel, the sorrow of his mother as she contemplated losing her little boy, or the chemotherapy finally kicking in, something started to work for Scotty.
As I sat there with him for a few hours, we passed the time the way you do with children who have a silly streak. We laughed. We joked. We told each other stories. We had fun. At one point, I had my mirror out, most likely to check my mascara, because I was sure it had run down my face as I laughed. “Can I put makeup on you?” Do you know how much courage it takes to let a five-year-old imp put make-up on you? But I figured there was no real harm, and after all, the oncologist said this was Scotty’s last few days on earth. What harm could there be?
Scotty loved every minute of it. He put shadow on my eyelids. He put blush on my cheeks. He put lipstick on my lips. I looked like a circus clown by the time he was done with me. But a funny thing happened along the way. Scotty’s vital signs started to perk up. His pulse rate improved. His oxygen level rose. These little signs showed there was still something left in him that could survive a tough bout. That weekend, Scotty went into remission.
It goes to show you that you can never really predict the end for someone. We can guess how things may go. We can look for specific “hard evidence” that someone is just about ready to die. But sometimes the opera goes on, and it’s really never over until the fat lady sings. What caused Scotty to rally that day in ICU? I think it was several things. I think it was the realization that his mother would be lost without him. I think it was also the fact that, when given the chance to be a child again, he took it. He embraced the opportunity to laugh and play. He put aside the idea that he was dying and he lived in the moment. He held on long enough for the chemotherapy to work its magic.
Sometimes we hear stories of survival and we think that it was just one thing that made all the difference. It can be. But I think it’s often many things that make the difference. Laugher helped Scotty breathe better. It increased his pulse rate, which helped his heart to function. And his dream about the angel told Scotty he still had a reason for living, so he was motivated to survive. These things all worked together to help him hold on, so that the powerful chemotherapy drugs had the chance to do their job.
Whenever you’re dealing with cancer, it’s important to understand the whole person. If you get treated with radiation and chemotherapy, that treats the physical body, even as it takes a toll on it. Some of the drugs used can have tremendously debilitating side effects, but they can have a positive outcome. How you view cancer treatment can also have an enormous impact. If you believe that death from cancer is inevitable, won’t you carry that with you wherever you go? Won’t you forever be waiting for the fat lady to sing? And in doing so, won’t you miss out on all the fun that life has to offer? Don’t live waiting to die. Live in the moment. Laugh now. Don’t put it off until you know for sure what the end result of the cancer will be. Sing. Hit those high notes. Belt it out with gusto. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but you have today. Enjoy it.