Choose Life

Our lives are filled with choices.

Almost two years ago, when I learned about my diagnosis, I made a choice, a conscious choice, about how I would live my life.

I stumbled, by accident, on frightening survival statistics of women diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer: only 20% are still alive five years after their diagnosis.

I determined right then and there that I intended to be part of that 20%.

I wish I could remember which angel directed me to the fabulous article by Stephen J. Gould, "The Median is Not the Message". I think it might have been someone from Sharsheret, a wonderful Jewish American organization that provided me with tremendous support in those devastating initial weeks, before I found appropriate support here in Israel.

If you have not read it already, then I recommend doing so now. Go ahead. It will reshape the way you view the world.

I read "The Median is Not the Message" and realized that my determination to "beat the odds" is a rational possibility and not just "wishful thinking."

Meanwhile, Moshe was reading everything he could about my disease. My dear, loving, sensitive husband was devastated by the statistics.

I knew that Moshe, for whom logic and cold science are fundamental to how he views the world, needed to read the article.

That article was the greatest gift I could give him.

But I did not stop there. I had already begun formulating my 20-year-plan.

I figured that if I did end up living for another 20 years or more, it would be an aweful shame to live all that time worrying about dying tomorrow.

Besides, I joked, I "just need to live long enough for them to discover a cure."

There is so much research going on every day, who knows what new medicines and miracle cures might be just a few years down the road?

We do not know what the future will bring. So why live expecting the worst? What a waste of our valuable time and energy.

In the past, I loved the adage "expect the worst, hope for the best, and you will never be disappointed." Suddenly, this approach to life no longer served me well.

I shifted paradigms.

I chose to expect the best.

I chose to believe that I would live, that I would have a future.

In Parshat Nitzavim, which we read on Shabbat, just before Rosh HaShanah, during the time when Jews are focussed on self-evaluation and repentence, Moshe Rabeinu (our teacher; not my husband) addresses Am Yisrael (the Jewish People) and proclaims:

הַעִדֹתִי בָכֶם הַיּוֹם, אֶת-הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֶת-הָאָרֶץ, הַחַיִּים וְהַמָּוֶת נָתַתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ, הַבְּרָכָה וְהַקְּלָלָה; וּבָחַרְתָּ בַּחַיִּים, לְמַעַן תִּחְיֶה, אַתָּה וְזַרְעֶךָ
(דברים ל:יט)

I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before thee life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life, that thou mayest live, thou and thy seed (Deuteronomy 30:19)

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Thank You!! (to everyone who made my 43rd birthday so special!!)

So, I'm still on the birthday theme because, to my surprise and joy, birthday gifts keep popping up!!

I'm still getting letters! (we're not in college anymore; there is no deadline!!)

I also received a box of Godiva dark chocolates!! (I am in heaven!!)

THANK YOU!!!

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I really wanted to do something special, at the hospital, to mark my birthday. I have been in treatment for over a year and a half, and I wanted to share my celebration with these people, who have become a part of my life. I am at the hospital every single week -- I see the people there more than I see anyone else!

I knew I should bake a cake.

The problem is, I really hate baking.

I did not manage to bake in time to bring a cake on February 12th. I did not feel too bad about it, since that was only after my "loazi" (secular, Gregorian calendar) birthday. I could bring a cake the following week, after my "Ivri" (Hebrew, Jewish calendar) birthday. After all, the 22nd of Sh'vat is my real birthday.

Of course, by the following chemo day, I still had not baked a cake.

Have I mentioned that I hate baking?

Thursday morning, finding nothing, to grab on the way out, and not wanting to be late to chemo, I determined to bake a cake next year!

I arrived at chemo and plopped my coat and sewing bag on a chair next to LS, who, as usual, arrived earlier than I and saved a seat for me. Then I went about my business, registering, opening my port, getting blood tests (I have so much more to write about this, but not in this post!), meeting my chemo-date (who came, by bus, from Ginot Shomron!! and brought candy!!!), etc.

When I finally went into the day room to sit down and relax, LS surprised me with a birthday cake!! Wow!!

LS made a really large and delicious chocolate cake!! I was able to share with everyone -- doctors, nurses, secretaries, researchers, patients, et al!! I had so much fun bringing around cake and inviting people to share in my birthday celebration!! I just felt great!!

Without knowing it, LS answered my inner wish! Her gift to me enabled me to share my birthday the way that I wanted!

As I entered the day room, after delivering the last of the cake, one of the nurses was ready to hook me up to the IV with my chemo.

I had a big smile on my face as I took my seat and settled in for my next treatment.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA