Confederate Flags and Cancer T-Shirts
Within the first few days of my diagnosis I came up with a t-shirt business. I would make t-shirts up with sayings like "Be Nice to Me, I have Cancer." Or, "Be nice to Me, My Wife has Cancer," because who isn't nice to someone who is sick, or who's family member has cancer? Let's make this easy right from the word go!
T-shirts, bumper stickers, yard signs, hats... all to let the world know that your day pretty much sucks and to give you a break for not going, as soon as the light turns green. A blaring reminder to everyone that is near you that if you seem distant during a conversation, it might be because you're still digesting your latest test results.
But that isn't how life works. We encounter people every day that are "going through something" and we have no flipping idea what or why. We see "perfectly normal" people with service animals and judge them because they seem "fine." We judge, we want to know what the dog is for, so that we can file the person under "sick," or "being dramatic."
I say to people all the time that I wish that everyone who is racist would just put a Confederate Flag out in front of their house so I could cut through the BS and know they are assholes before bothering to be friends with them. Cut out the conversation, and tip toeing around wondering who I am dealing with. Just let me know now! Are you sick? Are you an asshole? What's the deal?
A wheelchair, a bald head, scars, a limp, tremors all give us the high sign that something is going on. We can see the illness, and assume what is wrong. Holding the door, giving a kind smile, being a bit more patient for a slow gate or needing extra help, makes us feel good for helping someone in need. We can see the obvious sign of pain, illness or impending death and embrace our patience and kindness.
But everyday there are the hidden illnesses. There are the ones that don't show their pain and suffering on the outside. The mother that just lost a child, a man who just lost his wife or the child who is caring for a sick parent, quietly suffering at the seat next to you at Starbucks.
When I drive I try and pretend my Grandma O'Brien is in the car in front of me. Not because I want her to raise from the dead and start driving again, but because I imagine that the person in front of me, not going at the first flash of green, may be old, distracted by pain or worse. I think of the days when my son was in the hospital and can't really remember how I got back and forth from the hospital. I think about myself now, getting the test message from my doctor that reads "you have a new test result."
How soft you are with the world around you, is how soft you are willing to be with yourself. How understanding are you to pain, grief, suffering and death?
Sure the person that is being slow and annoying may just be a self-serving jerk, but maybe not? What can it hurt to just offer a little patience for the world and hold the door, stifle the horn and share a smile?
It can only make YOUR day a little better, I promise.
T-shirts, bumper stickers, yard signs, hats... all to let the world know that your day pretty much sucks and to give you a break for not going, as soon as the light turns green. A blaring reminder to everyone that is near you that if you seem distant during a conversation, it might be because you're still digesting your latest test results.
But that isn't how life works. We encounter people every day that are "going through something" and we have no flipping idea what or why. We see "perfectly normal" people with service animals and judge them because they seem "fine." We judge, we want to know what the dog is for, so that we can file the person under "sick," or "being dramatic."
I say to people all the time that I wish that everyone who is racist would just put a Confederate Flag out in front of their house so I could cut through the BS and know they are assholes before bothering to be friends with them. Cut out the conversation, and tip toeing around wondering who I am dealing with. Just let me know now! Are you sick? Are you an asshole? What's the deal?
A wheelchair, a bald head, scars, a limp, tremors all give us the high sign that something is going on. We can see the illness, and assume what is wrong. Holding the door, giving a kind smile, being a bit more patient for a slow gate or needing extra help, makes us feel good for helping someone in need. We can see the obvious sign of pain, illness or impending death and embrace our patience and kindness.
But everyday there are the hidden illnesses. There are the ones that don't show their pain and suffering on the outside. The mother that just lost a child, a man who just lost his wife or the child who is caring for a sick parent, quietly suffering at the seat next to you at Starbucks.
When I drive I try and pretend my Grandma O'Brien is in the car in front of me. Not because I want her to raise from the dead and start driving again, but because I imagine that the person in front of me, not going at the first flash of green, may be old, distracted by pain or worse. I think of the days when my son was in the hospital and can't really remember how I got back and forth from the hospital. I think about myself now, getting the test message from my doctor that reads "you have a new test result."
How soft you are with the world around you, is how soft you are willing to be with yourself. How understanding are you to pain, grief, suffering and death?
Sure the person that is being slow and annoying may just be a self-serving jerk, but maybe not? What can it hurt to just offer a little patience for the world and hold the door, stifle the horn and share a smile?
It can only make YOUR day a little better, I promise.
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