Ginny wept as I held her. “It’s not fair!” she cried, “Why me?” The pain surged through her body, and she cringed as she moved her aching muscles. After a few minutes of tears, she drew a deep breath, and looked me in the eyes. “I’ll be okay, you’ll see.” She stood up, drew her shoulders back with confidence, and smiled again. “I just needed to get that out. I’m ready to fight again.” She took her dose of ten pills waiting for her on the counter, and we went back to doing our school work. She had no other choice if she wanted to live. She chose life, and faced it with optimism despite a greater burden than any twelve-year-old should have to endure.
She showed this attitude of determination to everyone she met. The doctors were amazed at her courage, and her family drew strength in her positive attitude. Sometimes, however, she needed a quiet place to cry, to be comforted, and to grieve the pain she endured. She was honest with herself, but positive about life. There was a time for everything, and I learned about living from her journey both through dying and beating death.
Ginny started out active and healthy, playing sports and enjoying the outdoors, but when her young body began growing tired quickly, the doctors had bad news: Ginny had an illness they called terminal. After years of fighting, however, she proved them wrong.
I met Ginny when I had to miss a considerable number of school days because of my own illness. Mine went away, and hers did not. We grew to be close friends spending days together in elementary school, and after I got better, we stayed friends. She had many month-long hospital stays in junior high and high school, and I spent countless long summer days at her hospital, hiding from nurses or playing with the elevators, just for something fun to do. We made the most of the time she had, because they said it would be short.
She was sick enough to receive a wish from the Make A Wish Foundation, an amazing organization dedicated to wishes of terminally ill children. I can count at least 5 times during our teen years that I rushed to her side to say goodbye, since it was certain she would not make it through the night. We prayed, knowing that God would be there to welcome her into heaven. Every time, she miraculously made it through.
After her teen years, as suddenly as the illness struck, it disappeared. The doctors were baffled. Her health is still not the best, she still sees symptoms occasionally, but she is proof the impossible is possible. She is now married and in her thirties, living every day for the time God gives her, while knowing more than most how much we take for granted.
Ginny taught me how to be honest with myself, and yet keep a positive attitude at the same time. There were many times she wanted to quit taking her medicine, and a few times she did. She thought maybe she could test if God healed her, or that by stopping the medicine, somehow the disease would go away. As her symptoms quickly worsened, she had to face the truth. She needed the medicine to survive, so she took it again. She cried it out, and then toughed it out. But she did not let this change her attitude. She met each day with a focus not on what she would miss, but what she could do. She found joy in little things and appreciated the beauty of the outdoors for those few times she could be in it.
I also learned about life from an adult friend who fought cancer with all her might, kept a great attitude, but left us quickly. I do not know why this happened to her, but I do know that her great attitude may have given her the extra days she had before going, and most certainly helped her get the most out of those final moments with her own children. She was a teacher, and I know she would cherish this quote: “Live each day as if it were your last, but learn each day as if you will live forever.” (author unknown, but Og Mandino originated the first part).
Both she and Ginny did the best to enjoy live, had a positive outlook, and lived more life in sickness than many people do in twice as many years of health.
Life is not always fair, but we can always live beyond just fair, and choose to make our days exceptional.
“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:34 (NIV, Bible).
The impossible is possible. Uncertainty is a part of life, but do not let it prevent you from living. Love, laugh, and dream. Live for today and create a better tomorrow.
Patricia
