Down Days

Soon after I was diagnosed with breast cancer a very good friend said two very important things to me: the first - "You will be fine, and even in the worst case scenario, you will still be fine!" The second - "You will get through this; it will be hard, and there will be some dark moments, but you will get through this."

I take those words to heart and hug them close to me on good days, and down days... like today. I feel fine today. I went to the gym, went to the office, I have an appetite, and I'm able to work. But my brain is fuzzy, my stomach is queasy, and I'm tired too. And as the day wears on I feel more and more tired. I don't like this. I don't like not having energy. I don't like not being focused. I don't like the thought of months and months of treatment still stretching out before me. I am definitely having a down day.

But then I think a down day for me could very likely be a really good day for someone else. I can think of two people in particular. On the news this morning I heard that Rep. Gabby Giffords (the Congresswoman from Arizona who was shot in the head weeks ago) was being moved to rehab. Hooray for her for getting to leave the hospital, and yet for her, recovery is going to take longer than a few months - it may take years. But undoubtedly, today was a good day for her. There's also this guy at the Fullerton Avenue on-ramp towards downtown Chicago that I see almost everyday. He wears a full orange jumpsuit over what seems to be many layers of sweaters underneath. He wears a dingy beard and cap and carries a sign asking people to spare him some change. I don't know what his story is, but on the occasion I've reached out to give him something it's occurred to me how hard it must be to ask for money from strangers holed up in their heated vehicles, many trying to avoid his gaze. Whatever his story is, that's no way to spend a frigid winter day in Chicago. And yet, when someone does roll down a window to hand him some change, he smiles and politely says thank you and have a nice day. That would be a good day for him.

I know I'm entitled to my down days. I know it's OK for me to let myself feel down on my down days. But it doesn't really help to sulk; it doesn't make me feel any better. So instead, I'll tell myself that my down day is a good day for many people in worse situations than I'm in. Because really, in a couple of hours I'll be sitting next to my husband, my best friend as he picks me up from work; I'll be hugging my giggling, squirmy, beautiful princess of a daughter; and I'll be coming home to my Mom who has put her life on hold to be with me during this time. Bit by bit, I'm sure this down day will start to turn into a good day for me too.