Roller Coasters

I hate roller coasters. In fact, I hate most amusement rides, but I hate roller coasters in particular. My stomach and roller coasters don't mix well.

Yes, I know that roller coasters are an over-used metaphor for the ups and downs of a person's life. But I can't help but use that metaphor right about now. In these days leading up to the start of Karen's chemo treatment, it's as if our "cancer journey" is making the slow climb up the tracks to the crest of the first drop down the steepest hill. For Karen, that steep hill is her upcoming chemo treatment. The ride to the top is long and slow -- how better to build the anticipation and anxiety. As we climb, we can see the top, but we can't see what lies over the crest of the hill, which adds to the anxiety and uncertainty. But when we reach the top...away we go! In an instant, we're speeding down the hill. Whoosh! Your stomach muscles tighten (OK, mine do) and you brace yourself (OK, I do) as you fly along the tracks. From there you careen around sharp turns and up and down more hills. We can expect a similiar experience in the days ahead. And what about those who are also on board who have their arms raised high in the air? I think they must be the cancer surviors who have been through this before and who raise their arms as if to say "I've beat cancer" and it will be alright! Or perhaps they are all of our friends who have raised their arms high in the air as a sign of their support. Just as I know that I get off a real roller coaster in one piece -- shaken and dazed a bit -- I know that we will get off this roller coaster in one piece. Shaken and dazed, but in one piece.