I went into the holiday season with a plan. Those who know me well will tell you that I love a plan. I had 5 days in a row off around Christmas so my husband and I were off to Lynchburg, Virginia to see his side of the family. We also have a lot of friends in Lynchburg -- so it was going to really be a homecoming, of sorts, for the holidays. I had five days of relaxation ahead.
Well, you know what they say about the most well laid plans...
The weekend before Christmas I got some devastating news. Long ago I blogged about my friend, Megan, who was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer near the beginning of 2008... at the age of 30. She put on a brave face and dug her heels in ready to fight. She mailed out "Cancer Sucks" buttons to all of us and started a Caringbridge Journal (similar to a blog) where she gave us updates on her treatment. If anyone was going to lick this it's Megan.
She is just one of those people who you just know, upon first meeting, you'll know forever. She is one of those people who brings together different groups of friends and makes everyone get along. She is smart, beautiful, has a huge smile and is the life of the party. Megan walks into a room and people notice.
Her journal entries remain hopeful through the bad news the doctors at MD Anderson in Houston delivered over the last 8 months. However, it's the news she had to swallow ... and the rest of us read last weekend that brought us all home again last weekend.
For months now she has refused to listen to percentages -- her chances of living or dying with this disease -- especially since it's taken over her liver. She refused and refused ... and finally she asked, listened and obeyed.
Megan's doctors sent her home -- saying there was nothing they can do for her liver, the cancer has taken over. She promised us all she wasn't giving up, rather going home and making another decision in her fight -- to stop fighting. She went home and enjoyed Christmas -- knowing that if the statistics are right, this will be her last.
We read this news and immediately my friends pick up the phone and start dialing each other. We cry together, we ask questions. What do we do? Those who could, met in Kansas City last weekend to go rally around our friend -- hoping to give her strength, help us find peace and to just be together. Six of us came together to lift our friend Megan up.
I walked into Megan's room and was taken aback. I think we all were. I expected her to get out of bed. I expected her to be able to talk, raise her head and carry on. However, Megan was very sick that day. Her energy low, tucked tight into bed, she'd grown very thin too.
But we all crawled into bed with her, held each other's hands -- crying, laughing, praying and comforting. She told us if she dies, she will be watching over us, our husbands ... and children in heaven. She told us she was scared. We told her we were scared too.
We stayed longer than I thought we would be able to. Her father kept coming in to "make sure everything was ok." Once Megan realized what he was insinuating, she said, "I'M GREAT!" While her eyes didn't sparkle the way they usually do, and her light was hidden behind a cloud of pain and disease, there were still parts of our Megan there and when I finally did leave, that is what gave me peace.
Megan also made us all promise to pay close attention to warning signs that something is wrong with our bodies, not work too much, not to let stress take over, not to wait on the things that are important to us ... and more importantly take care of the one body we have been given. I'm not sure I always make the healthy choice -- or that I'll never falter again-- but I do know that I really did mean it when I said, "I promise."
I worry what 2009 will bring for our circle of friends. Whether God thinks it's time to take Megan now ... or give us months or years (which is the miracle I pray for every second of the day right now). I've learned a tremendous lesson from her this year. Megan's world changed in that year. I plan to live each day in my own years ahead like I never have before -- with a zest, a spirit and love that I never have before. That is the lesson we learned this year in my circle of friends. That is the gift we've realized through this year of tragedy.
I hope by stepping out of my journalism box -- opening up my story about Megan to YOU -- you'll maybe learn the lesson too and apply it in your own new year.
Danner,
You write a tribute to your friend, Megan, right from your heart. Thank you for sharing the lesson which is something everyone needs to know.
Beverly Wilson
Posted by: Beverly Wilson | January 02, 2009 at 07:30 PM