I learned tonight that a dear friend from my college years has a niece who was diagnosed with cancer the day after Christmas. Her niece is only months older than our middles and they share many of the same interests. My heart stopped as I read the news, and then broke little by little as I read through the blog her dad began writing to chronicle their journey.
While I’ve never met my friend’s niece, I can say quite assuredly she is a fighter and if anyone can beat this, she can. How do I know this? I would challenge you to read through even a bit of the blog and not feel the same. While several of the anecdotes of Megan’s first few days after diagnosis had me smiling and nodding my head, one quote stood out in my mind. “I don’t like it when people say “I’m sorry”. I’m here (at the hospital) to get better, and when they say “I’m sorry”, it makes me feel bad.”
While I am in no way comparing a cancer diagnosis to an autism diagnosis, I do understand the sentiment of wishing people wouldn’t say, “I’m sorry.”
For me, hearing someone say, “I’m sorry he has autism,” means they feel my son is somehow inferior or that we somehow have a future that is somehow less than desirable. I’d never be one to say life on the spectrum scene is a walk in the park, but life in any sense never is. There are uphill battles in every situation. Everyone fights some kind of battle, it’s just different from ours. Some are more difficult. Some are more devastating. Some have bigger, harder, harsher implications, but we all have our own battles to face. It’s true, I’m sorry my friends sometimes hurt due to circumstances. I’m sorry there are frustrations, but that is part of life and life is meant to be lived!
If only we could all be as upbeat and optimistic as Megan – to look cancer in the eye and say, “I’m here to get better.” That’s a fighter. We’ve got your back, girl. No sorry’s here! We will be lifting you and your family in prayer regularly and following your journey through your dad’s blog.
Go get ‘em, Megan!