I have learned about surrender in various stages of my life. As a child and teenager, I had to surrender for a short time. My white flags were conciliatory words to my parents and my sisters. But, deep in my heart I would tell myself that “this too will pass” and that “I would make them regret it.”
It wasn’t until I had my first crisis with Wegener’s Granulomatosis, a vasculitis disease, that I learned that surrender means how graceful you are in defeat. I was able to handle the first five weeks of the hospital treatment that finally saved my life, I was able to handle the next weeks after I had to go to the same hospital for treatment, but, I was unable to handle the grind of the disease when it looked like it would drag on for months, years, and the rest of my life.
Mind you, I was taking some very powerful drugs to keep my immune system suppressed. Mind you, I was tired most of the time because my kidneys were not working well. Mind you I was hallucinating.
So I rebelled. It is only natural. My motto for my entire life is “never give up, and never give in.” I don’t surrender. I just find another way to work around the problem. Unfortunately, there are no other ways to control the disease except through prednisone and chemo-therapy.
I finally surrendered to my fate when I was given the choice. I could live with limitations that included some powerful drugs. By the way, I hate drugs and I have always hated drugs. Or I could die.
I live. I take my meds. I try to keep my health up. I swallow those pills and I listen to my husband… or try to. I still have the motto that helps me through each day. I have learned not to snarl when someone tells me that I “don’t look sick.”
And, I have discovered that I have the determination and ability to write my thoughts and fiction. It has been a gift that has helped me through even the darkest days.
See more writings for Sunday Scribblings.