I think we all agree that chronic illness and pain sucks. Of course some conditions are worse than others, but overall chronic illness and pain outright stinks. The universe of illnesses is huge, so I will never try to play who has it worse. I will simply say that living with a chronic illness of any kind or chronic pain SUCKS. As I sat in my kitchen this one morning looking out the window at the beautiful weather, a dear friend came to mind. My dear friend is fighting cancer for the second time, and I thought I would use today to encourage DJ, the Warrior Princess.
I won’t use your real name, but you know who you are. Some people in your life call you mom, others may call you sis or sister. Your husband calls you Warrior Princess…but for me you are simply DJ. Like the slang use of the word, your presence in a room quickly gets noticed. You change the atmosphere in the room by simply walking in. Your humble yet angelic presence houses an intellectual spit fire. Something about you draws people, I think it’s the energy you give off and your kind heart. While time and illness has weakened your body, your spirit is stronger than ever. To me, you are the epitome of strength. I’m sure if I checked Webster’s Dictionary for the definition of strength, I would find your picture proudly waving the middle finger.
DJ, the woman that refuses to give up or throw in the towel. The woman continuing to live each day to the fullest, despite the uncertainty of what the next minute holds. The listening ear and giving heart, despite a pain riddled body that would make most people bitter. The soft voice reassuring others that things will work out as they should, despite the doctor’s assertion that your time on earth was drawing near. When doctor’s said there was nothing else to do, you made them eat those words. I’m sure you gave that smile and lip curl…that to me tauntingly asks “oh death where is your sting?”
I always say every day above ground is a great day, and I plan to spend every great day dancing. Well DJ, you give me the music for my dance. You, my dear friend, are the background music for my dance. Your existence alone is my fight song. See, your courage and willingness to give each fight all you have, encourages me to dance even harder. Those days when I feel too tired, thoughts of you make me dig deeper. Some days my dance may be a toe tap, and your song just a few beats because of pain or fatigue. Not one to deprive the world, we make up for laid back days two fold. Like any great song, I know the music that you give me will have to end someday. No worries, the song you have given me is permanently engraved in my heart. So as long as I have a heartbeat, the song you gave me plays on.