Cancer

Somebody very close to me, somebody I grew up with, was recently diagnosed with cancer. The news shocked their immediate family because, in a span of three weeks, they went from a healthy, active college student to someone who is sick and immediately needs to undergo chemotherapy. It came out of nowhere, really. These things usually do. I hadn’t processed it these past couple of weeks because it was a shock to me, too. And I didn’t quite understand the gravity of it. I’m starting to now. I’m starting to see how chemo is going to destroy their body from the inside out, cause unpleasant side effects, and result in mental and emotional pain that nobody should have to go through. Their whole life is disrupted. It’s on hold while they go through what may very well be the hardest thing they have to fight. It’s going to take them years to recover from the chemo. All their life, they’re going to have to be on higher alert about this and other forms of cancer. They’re so young. They now have to think about and do things that people as young as them should never have to.

My heart goes out to them and their family. My heart goes out to my parents, for whom this was a shock, too. They are like a child to my parents. The weight I feel in my chest right now is nothing compared to the pain the family must be feeling, the fear they must be facing, and the strength they are mustering.

One thing I am grateful about is that they caught it before it was too late. I am also grateful that the doctor told them that they have a high chance of complete recovery. I am grateful that they have family around them to support them. I am gut-wrenchingly sad that I can’t be near them. But, really, what could I have done? They have immediate family who can take care of them physically, socially, and emotionally. I would only be there, not doing anything. I would not be able to, and neither is it my place to, provide them with the support they require.

But now that I’m back in this country, so far away from them, their family, and my family, I cannot see a point to any of it. Life just seems so mundane now, so meaningless. Everything I do feels menial. Going to the gym, doing my language practice, going to work. Everything feels plain stupid and unimportant. How could any of these things be important when somebody I grew up with, somebody I love, battles something so serious? What is the point of me selfishly going about with my life when they have to face immeasurable pain? I see no point in it. How could things like money or work matter to me when the health of someone I love is the only thing I can think about?

I wish I could be there. For them. For their family. I wish I could do something to fix it, to make it better. But I’m bound by my life here while nothing feels valuable but them, their health, and their families.