Dancing in the Rain

April 21, 2009 - Storm Talk - It’s confusing, overwhelming, a whole new language, hard to take in, and difficult to accept. They just give the information to you all at once, usually because they have to. Storm talks can come from Lawyers, Doctors, Police Officers, Principles, Counselors and Friends. You can also stumble upon storm talks when you least expect it. Ideally, you need at least two sets of ears or more to catch everything, plus a pen and paper to take notes. You’ll never remember everything that was said. It’s important information, a crash course, a new experience. This is the Storm Talking. I made a list. It consists of all of the storms that I have weathered… so far. You have to do this, it’s amazing to look back and see that you actually survived what you thought was impossible to live through. With each storm we gain strength, faith, compassion, knowledge and self confidence. Coming out the other side, we are forever changed. Pay attention in the storms. There are conversations that you will not hear anywhere else. There are things that you will not see anywhere else. There are things that you will not do anywhere else. Take in every word, every look on every face, and every thought. We are in this storm for a reason so listen up and experience it. One time in the treatment room there was a gentleman talking openly about how he told his kids, all in their 20’s, that his cancer was terminal. He said they were all taking it quite well. I was uncomfortable hearing this conversation, but it occurred to me that “terminal” is now part of his vocabulary and he had accepted that. How does one get to that point? Only with God I’m sure! He then drifted off to sleep. Next, in came a gal and her husband for her first treatment – yep, you can spot ‘em. Looking big eyed, not saying a word, waiting for instructions, just standing there feeling scared, clutching the folder that contains your kemo cocktail of drugs. That’s exactly how I looked and felt. I smiled, and maintained eye contact with her; no words were needed. Then I said a prayer. Next, blowing through the door was a young man about 20, big smile, with two drinks and two bags of Taco John’s. He went straight to his sleeping dad, hit his foot with a bag of food to wake him up and sat down to eat. They both laughed and had a quick lunch together filled with joy and conversation. How cool was that?! The first time I was around my cousin’s kids I was really prepared for those conversations, or so I thought. I look funny without hair don’t I? “You don’t have hair”, the six year old shouted, and immediately tried to remove my hat in the restaurant. Ok, strike one. “Why don’t you have hair”? I explained that the medicine I was taking was so strong that it made my hair fall out. He got a serious look on his little six year old face and said, “ I know what that is, Asthma”! “No”, I said, “its cancer”. “CANCER” he shouted! Ok, strike two. By now, everyone in the restaurant understood, except the little six year old. He later asked if the monster inside me was in my head. I said “ no”. Naturally he asked, “well where is it”? I told him it was in my breast and pointed to show him. With a disgusted look, he said, “then why did your HAIR fall out”? I loved it… It’s easy to talk with others in the same storm. There is an instant bond, a trust, an understanding. Sometimes you don’t even need words to relate to each other. But you walk a fine line when talking to others. Do you talk openly about your storm, hoping not to scare, disgust, or offend anyone? Or do you wait for questions? I’ve learned that it’s hard for people to ask questions, but it’s easy for me to answer them. My advice would be to ask questions if you haven’t experienced another’s storm, why not learn from them? Don’t be afraid, just ask. There is one conversation that remains consistent in every storm, large or small. I feel this should be the FIRST conversation. The storm talk with God. Lord help me, show me, be with me. Lord grant me more faith, strength, courage, and self control. Lord have mercy on me and shower me with your Amazing Grace. Open my eyes and ears and mouth when appropriate. Show me how to help others. Amen. In the end, surviving the strong storms, and even small squalls, gives us an obligation to share our experience with others. We have so much to offer others in need. So open your heart and share your experience when you are called on to do so. Remember, storms talk, but so does God, listen to both. Where one gives information, the other gives inspiration.