My silent warriors: Our Caregivers (part one)

I have attempted numerous times to write this post.  Everything I write never seems to justify how much our caregivers do for us, or what their roles are whether they be our parent, our partner, our sibling, or even just a good friend.  What I do know is they are earth angels.  They are what (if there ever was a god up there) what god intended the best of the best and most genuine, helpful, kind, strong, beautiful people to look like.  And, I, and so many other cancer warriors are surrounded by them daily.

The one thing I really dislike though about our caregivers is that they never, ever get the credit they deserve.  I realize we are here fighting for our lives, but I assure you my friends, I would not be here writing these words to you without my moms, Darlene and Diane, my partner, Rich, and my Uncle and Aunt, Jay and Bob.  These are people that reach down to the bottom of their souls, and when they have nothing left -- they dig, and give me more.  They give me more to keep living, and somehow, I keep breathing.

For example.  Last week when we were in the ER for over twenty four hours.  My mother, who thoroughly enjoys her sleep.  Just sat upright for over a days time, just to watch me, to make sure no one touched me or accessed me or fought with me, or did ANYthing to me (as we heard of knives being in other patients pockets if they wouldn't be moved soon enough.)  She protected me, as she always does, did and I know until she's here, she will.  For years, my mothers have pushed aside their personal and professional freedom and lives to help me recover, year after year, from our days in the transplant ward a straight 25 days of in patient that doesn't even tough the inpatient ICE days in the hospital.  Everyday, every night, Diane or my mother would be by my side.  Diane would make rice pudding and other forms of food I could easily ease down my throat, my mother would form relationships with me and my nurses, to make sure we received what we needed.  We were a team, they were and are my advocates. I live, due to their choices, the times they told a nurse "no, she's allergic to that" or "no, you can only access her port, after five sticks it's TOO much."  or basically "no you're insane if you think you're giving her that drug."  Or the times, that we would plead for a push of benadryl, and only our favorite nurse would assist us ad make sure we'd receive it.  The times, where they'd sleep on the hospital floor one year during the holidays, when our floor had no heat and it was below freezing out, where they gave me their coats, and shivered for days so I wouldn't die. Literally die, of pneumonia.  Or the times they would let me cry and cry and cry, and wonder when this part would pass... They are my silent warriors.  They would give up their lives for me, and I know that.  They will drop their work, their friends, their sanity, and unfortunately even their own health to attend doctors appointments for me. To question, to challenge, to agree, to game plan and have three different plans of attack.  They are the ones that fight behind the scenes, the ones who may not be in my body to feel the pain -- but are on the outside doing everything imaginable to stop it.  They are my everyday heroes. The women who tell me that I can do it, I can make it, I can push forward, that I am stronger than I think -- and somehow in those moments they are right.

They are the women, the caregivers who told me I could keep studying and pursuing my masters degree. They are the women who told me that a strong enough man would fall in love with me, because I am amazing.  They are the women who, with me, take nothing for granted every single day.  Because they are my silent warriors.  The ones that hardly any one of you hears or sees; however, they are everything.  I only hope and pray (or send positive vibes, whatever I do these days) that there are many cancer warriors who have such amazing caregivers, women, moms, best friends that know if I'm not ready to give up -- neither are they, and for seven years.... we have continually put one foot in front of the other, as a team.  Sometimes, I am so incredibly grateful for, every single day of my life.

These are my silent warriors. Only two out of five of them.

But they are the only reason I am alive today. And though there is nothing I can do to ever thank or repay them in the future, I can only hope, by my continued breath, sometimes that will be enough.

I just needed the world, for today, to know that.

Sending so much love to you, and your silent warriors.

xoxo,
Bekah