My prayer.

I don’t want to die. That’s the first and the last, the beginning and the end of all my thoughts, please God, don’t let me die yet. I am not done. I have so much more to do, so much more to see, experiences I have yet to live. I’m too young to die. I haven’t gotten to grow old yet. I’m not even 47. My daughter is barely 18 and hasn’t even finished growing up yet. My son has so much more growing up to do. They need me. My grandson is not even 3. Please God. Don’t let me die. My parents are still alive; they should not have to bury their daughter. Mike should not have to spend his days taking care of me as I fade away. Please God, I’m worth saving. Please God, don’t let me die yet.

As these tumors take over my brain so rapidly I want to believe nothing but positive thoughts, nothing but “third times a charm”, but as I watched my arm shake and the tremble worsening each morning all I can think is that this aggressive cockroach cancer is taking over my frontal lobe, taking away my ability to use my right side. Typing this is an incredible challenge. My fingers no longer fly over the keyboard. Each stroke must be concentrated and deliberate, and even then, they are often wrong and must be corrected. My ability to communicate is being challenged, my ability to work taken away. Simple tasks such as brushing my teeth or getting dressed are a test of will. If I think really hard I can keep the shaking to a slight tremor, but underneath it, I can still feel it, betraying me. My balance seems to be better sometimes, but my leg is weak and buckles under me without any warning. I must walk carefully and deliberately so as not to stumble and fall. It has been barely a week since the first symptom, and the change is dramatic. I pray that the radiation will work. I pray that the methotrexate they injected into my spinal column yesterday gets up into my brain and decimates the tumors. I pray there is no cancer in my spinal fluid. I pray I get better. Please God, I don’t want to get worse. I don’t want to have my brain taken away, control of my body removed. I don’t want to become an invalid. Please God. Save me.

That is my prayer. I am working hard to stay positive, but it is challenging when the symptoms of the disease are so prevalent; staring at me every moment of every day. A constant reminder of the battles that have been waged; and a continual cue of the war that is still to be won. And win it I must. There is just too much of life that I want to live. I see the faces of my friends and my family walk before my eyes and I want to live to keep seeing them. I want to hear their stories and watch their lives unfold with mine. Share in their triumphs, weep with their sorrow. I want to give and take of their love and their time and energy. I have so much love to share with everyone. Please God, let me live to share that love, that smile, those tears, the joy and the sorrow. I want it all, every piece, the good and the bad. Don’t take me away yet, my time simply cannot be done. My heart is filled to overflowing and I want to let it spill all around me, filling the world with sunshine. Let me live to let it flow.

And God, if the answer is no. Then let it be so. Since it is Your will, not mine, that will be done on this earth. I know there is a better place beyond here, a place with You. And its not that I don’t want to be with You, its just I’m not ready to leave the ones I love behind. But if that is my destiny, Your plan for my life, let my days be filled with love and friendship. Let the remainder of my journey be an inspiration and an encouragement to all those around me. Help me to have the courage and the strength to fight the good fight, to always have a smile and a kind word for those who come in contact with me. Help me to do and say all the things that need to be done and said. Help me to guide my children to where they need to be, help me to be a light in this sometimes dark world. Allow me to leave an indelible mark on the lives around me, not to be just a smudge in their busy and full days. Allow me to make a difference. For if I can, than all this will be for the better of those who knew me, and this battle will be worthwhile. I don’t want this to all be for naught, I want it to mean something.

Please God let me live. But most of all, above all, let me be a light.