I love to learn. I google things at least a dozen times a day, just because I want to know. Things like why otters hold hands when they sleep and how big a platypus is and what’s the difference between almond and amaretto. Trivia, all of it, but it fascinates me.
This week I have been googling other things. Things like HER2 and what foods feed cancer and what mastectomy scars look like. None of it is trivial. And if I don’t guard my eyes and thoughts, it leads me down a deep, dark hole of despair.
I now know more about cancer than I ever thought I’d need to, and I have barely scratched the surface. The learning curve with cancer is steep one; it comes at you fast and furious and you try to tread water and discern what applies to you and what doesn’t.
A week ago, none of it applied to me. Cancer was blissfully something that happens to other people–not that I would ever wish it on anyone or take it lightly for them–it was just something I rarely had to think about. Now, here I am and it occupies every corner of my life.
They say ignorance is bliss. It isn’t when knowing what’s going on in my body will likely save my life. As difficult as this new education is, I am grateful for how much the medical community has learned, and for the privilege of living in a time when medical advancement is immense.
Regardless of my feelings on the subject, school is in session. God grant me the presence of mind and wisdom to be a good student.
