“I can't believe you tell people your age,”my friend commented.
Hey, I don't mind. Really. In fact, I love my age, because every single birthday means more than just presents and chocolate cake.
The day I heard the word“cancer”spoken by my doctor, my life turned upside down.
“I have a test on Monday,”I said foolishly, thinking that the doctor would postpone surgery so I could ace1 my humanities test. What I didn't realize is that I was preparing for the biggest test of my life.
Within hours I discovered that I did have cancer. It had spread to my lymph nodes2. I learned at 32 years of age to face mortality3. Every time the doctors entered my room, they walked in with bad news and one more specialist. One white coat meant cancer. Two white coats meant chemo4. Three meant radiation. Four meant detection of another possible tumor 5.
At one point five doctors stood around my bed. It seemed fitting because the statistics dropped to a 10% chance of surviving five years. One doctor for each year I might live.
There were a multitude of 6 reasons to stick around 7a husband of 12 years that I loved a whole lot and three beautiful children that were clueless to the plight8 of their mom and dad, but who gave me daily strength in their innocent love and handmade gifts that hung on the hospital wall.
To this day, I still have a crayon picture of me resting in bed, with a large head and larger lips, with a thermometer 1 sticking out of my mouth. The words,“get well so u can com home”was my mantra2.
I'm thankful for cancer in many ways. Does that sound crazy? I wouldn't wish it on anybody and I don't want to go through it again, but it was a teacher. It helped me to treasure every single day. It forced me to prioritize3 my life. Things that were once important seemed foolish. It pushed me off the rolling wheel this society calls sacred and let me pursue the desires of my heart, instead of my wallet. It gave me the ability to see life as fragile, not one day promised. It allowed me to treasure my three beautiful children, who sometimes brought heart
ache along with joy as they grew up, who are all now in college and can now spell beautifully.
When I hit my 5th year of survival, I left my job to write full time. I decided not to write one more word about anything that didn't matter to me. It was a step of faith, but it made perfect sense. Cancer taught me not to let the opportunities of your heart pass you by because we are not promised“one day”or“someday.”
On my 40th birthday, I rode gocarts4 with 30 of my closest friends to celebrate. The numbers 40 hanging across the wall were a beautiful sight.
I celebrated my 10th year of survival on a boat in the Amazon in the rainforest of Brazil. I sat on the top level and watched the sun rise and from somewhere so deep inside, I thanked God for the opportunity to experience life through facing death.
You see, life has become a series of celebrations. Last month, I celebrated my 13th year of survival and embraced my 44th birthday. Next month, Richard and I will celebrate our 24th anniversary. Leslie, my oldest, turned 21 last year. My twins are 20. All young adults now, all running after their own dreams, because my bout1 with cancer taught them too.
I look at my friend and answer her question. Do I mind telling my age? Absolutely not. I'll shout it from the rooftops2. I'm 44! I'm thankful for all 10 gray hairs.
When I look in the mirror and notice the small lines appearing around my mouth and eyes, I don't call them wrinkles. I call them opportunities.
Every line was placed there by a smile that creased my facean experience, large or small, that came from living this gift called life.(by T. Suzanne Eller )
人生感觸：我真無法相信你說你的年齡
“我真不相信你告訴人家你的年齡，”我的朋友這樣說我。
嗨，我可不介意。真的。事實(shí)上，我愛我的年齡，因?yàn)槊恳粋€(gè)生日不僅僅意味著禮物和巧克力蛋糕。
回想那天我從醫(yī)生嘴里聽到“癌癥”這個(gè)字眼，我的生活完全變了樣。
“我星期一還有個(gè)測驗(yàn)?zāi)?，”我傻乎乎地說，以為醫(yī)生會(huì)推遲手術(shù)，這樣我可以在語言文學(xué)測驗(yàn)中取得好成績。我根本沒有意識到，我其實(shí)已開始準(zhǔn)備應(yīng)付我生活中最為嚴(yán)峻的考驗(yàn)。
幾小時(shí)后，我發(fā)現(xiàn)我的確是患上了癌癥，癌細(xì)胞已經(jīng)擴(kuò)散到我的淋巴結(jié)。在32歲之際，我學(xué)會(huì)了面對死亡。每次醫(yī)生走進(jìn)我的病房，他們都帶來不好的消息和又一位專家。1位白大褂醫(yī)生意味著癌癥。2位意味著化療。3位意味著放療。4位意味著可能又發(fā)現(xiàn)一個(gè)什么腫瘤。
有一次5位醫(yī)生站在我的病床周圍。倒也相稱，因?yàn)槲以倩?年的幾率已經(jīng)下降到10%。1位醫(yī)生代表我可能活1年。
但有諸多理由要活下去——有結(jié)婚12載、我深深愛戀著的丈夫；有3個(gè)漂亮的孩子，他們無從知道他們媽媽和爸爸的困境，但他們用純真的愛和親手制作的禮物給予我迎接每一天的力量，他們的禮物就懸掛在醫(yī)院的墻上。
直到今天，我還珍藏著一幅蠟筆畫，上面畫的是臥床休息的我，大大的腦袋，更大的嘴唇，嘴里插著溫度計(jì)。上面的字——“早日康復(fù)回到家中”——就是我的禱文。
在很多方面我對癌癥感激不盡。這聽上去像瘋?cè)藝艺Z嗎？我絕不希望癌癥降臨到任何人頭上，也絕不想再吃一遍苦，但癌癥是我的老師。是它幫助我珍惜每一天；是它迫使我弄清生活的主次，曾是重要的事情已顯得愚蠢可笑；是它讓我遠(yuǎn)離這個(gè)社會(huì)稱之為神圣的滾滾車輪，引導(dǎo)我去追求我內(nèi)心的愿望，而不是錢夾的鼓脹；是它讓我明白生命是脆弱的，沒有一天是有保證的；是它讓我珍惜我那3個(gè)漂亮的孩子，他們在成長之際讓我傷心過，但也給我?guī)硐矏?，他們現(xiàn)在都已進(jìn)了大學(xué)，拼寫都很好。
在我得了癌癥的第5個(gè)年頭，我辭掉工作，全職寫作。我決定不多寫一字講那些對我不重要的事情。這只是跨出的信念之步，但意義深遠(yuǎn)。癌癥教會(huì)我不要錯(cuò)過自己內(nèi)心的機(jī)會(huì)，因?yàn)闆]有“一天”或“某一天”是保證屬于我們的。
在我40歲生日之際，我和30位親密的朋友乘微型單座賽車漫游慶祝。家里墻上掛著的40這兩個(gè)數(shù)字是那般美麗奪目。
患癌癥后的第10個(gè)年頭，我又有新的慶祝方式——乘船游覽巴西熱帶雨林中的亞馬孫河。我坐在船的層觀看日出，從內(nèi)心最深處，我感激上帝賜予我機(jī)會(huì)，讓我通過面對死亡來體驗(yàn)人生。
你瞧，生活成為一個(gè)接一個(gè)的慶祝。上個(gè)月，我慶祝我患癌癥后活過的第13個(gè)年頭，迎來我的44歲生日。下個(gè)月，我和理查德將要慶祝我們結(jié)婚24周年紀(jì)念日。萊斯利，我的長女，去年已經(jīng)21歲。我的雙胞胎孩子今年也20歲了。他們雖然年輕，但都是成年人了，都在追求自己的夢想，因?yàn)槲液桶┌Y的較量也教育了他們。
我望著我的朋友，回答她的問題。我會(huì)介意說出我的年齡嗎？絕不會(huì)。我真想公開宣布：我44歲啦！我感激我已經(jīng)有了10根灰發(fā)。
當(dāng)我在鏡中凝視自己，注意到嘴角和眼睛周圍出現(xiàn)細(xì)細(xì)線條時(shí)，我可不把它們稱為皺紋。我把它們叫做機(jī)會(huì)。
每一線條都是一次微笑在臉上刻下的印記。這種經(jīng)歷，無論大小，都是來自享受稱為“生活”的這份厚禮。(冥云譯)
Hey, I don't mind. Really. In fact, I love my age, because every single birthday means more than just presents and chocolate cake.
The day I heard the word“cancer”spoken by my doctor, my life turned upside down.
“I have a test on Monday,”I said foolishly, thinking that the doctor would postpone surgery so I could ace1 my humanities test. What I didn't realize is that I was preparing for the biggest test of my life.
Within hours I discovered that I did have cancer. It had spread to my lymph nodes2. I learned at 32 years of age to face mortality3. Every time the doctors entered my room, they walked in with bad news and one more specialist. One white coat meant cancer. Two white coats meant chemo4. Three meant radiation. Four meant detection of another possible tumor 5.
At one point five doctors stood around my bed. It seemed fitting because the statistics dropped to a 10% chance of surviving five years. One doctor for each year I might live.
There were a multitude of 6 reasons to stick around 7a husband of 12 years that I loved a whole lot and three beautiful children that were clueless to the plight8 of their mom and dad, but who gave me daily strength in their innocent love and handmade gifts that hung on the hospital wall.
To this day, I still have a crayon picture of me resting in bed, with a large head and larger lips, with a thermometer 1 sticking out of my mouth. The words,“get well so u can com home”was my mantra2.
I'm thankful for cancer in many ways. Does that sound crazy? I wouldn't wish it on anybody and I don't want to go through it again, but it was a teacher. It helped me to treasure every single day. It forced me to prioritize3 my life. Things that were once important seemed foolish. It pushed me off the rolling wheel this society calls sacred and let me pursue the desires of my heart, instead of my wallet. It gave me the ability to see life as fragile, not one day promised. It allowed me to treasure my three beautiful children, who sometimes brought heart
ache along with joy as they grew up, who are all now in college and can now spell beautifully.
When I hit my 5th year of survival, I left my job to write full time. I decided not to write one more word about anything that didn't matter to me. It was a step of faith, but it made perfect sense. Cancer taught me not to let the opportunities of your heart pass you by because we are not promised“one day”or“someday.”
On my 40th birthday, I rode gocarts4 with 30 of my closest friends to celebrate. The numbers 40 hanging across the wall were a beautiful sight.
I celebrated my 10th year of survival on a boat in the Amazon in the rainforest of Brazil. I sat on the top level and watched the sun rise and from somewhere so deep inside, I thanked God for the opportunity to experience life through facing death.
You see, life has become a series of celebrations. Last month, I celebrated my 13th year of survival and embraced my 44th birthday. Next month, Richard and I will celebrate our 24th anniversary. Leslie, my oldest, turned 21 last year. My twins are 20. All young adults now, all running after their own dreams, because my bout1 with cancer taught them too.
I look at my friend and answer her question. Do I mind telling my age? Absolutely not. I'll shout it from the rooftops2. I'm 44! I'm thankful for all 10 gray hairs.
When I look in the mirror and notice the small lines appearing around my mouth and eyes, I don't call them wrinkles. I call them opportunities.
Every line was placed there by a smile that creased my facean experience, large or small, that came from living this gift called life.(by T. Suzanne Eller )
人生感觸：我真無法相信你說你的年齡
“我真不相信你告訴人家你的年齡，”我的朋友這樣說我。
嗨，我可不介意。真的。事實(shí)上，我愛我的年齡，因?yàn)槊恳粋€(gè)生日不僅僅意味著禮物和巧克力蛋糕。
回想那天我從醫(yī)生嘴里聽到“癌癥”這個(gè)字眼，我的生活完全變了樣。
“我星期一還有個(gè)測驗(yàn)?zāi)?，”我傻乎乎地說，以為醫(yī)生會(huì)推遲手術(shù)，這樣我可以在語言文學(xué)測驗(yàn)中取得好成績。我根本沒有意識到，我其實(shí)已開始準(zhǔn)備應(yīng)付我生活中最為嚴(yán)峻的考驗(yàn)。
幾小時(shí)后，我發(fā)現(xiàn)我的確是患上了癌癥，癌細(xì)胞已經(jīng)擴(kuò)散到我的淋巴結(jié)。在32歲之際，我學(xué)會(huì)了面對死亡。每次醫(yī)生走進(jìn)我的病房，他們都帶來不好的消息和又一位專家。1位白大褂醫(yī)生意味著癌癥。2位意味著化療。3位意味著放療。4位意味著可能又發(fā)現(xiàn)一個(gè)什么腫瘤。
有一次5位醫(yī)生站在我的病床周圍。倒也相稱，因?yàn)槲以倩?年的幾率已經(jīng)下降到10%。1位醫(yī)生代表我可能活1年。
但有諸多理由要活下去——有結(jié)婚12載、我深深愛戀著的丈夫；有3個(gè)漂亮的孩子，他們無從知道他們媽媽和爸爸的困境，但他們用純真的愛和親手制作的禮物給予我迎接每一天的力量，他們的禮物就懸掛在醫(yī)院的墻上。
直到今天，我還珍藏著一幅蠟筆畫，上面畫的是臥床休息的我，大大的腦袋，更大的嘴唇，嘴里插著溫度計(jì)。上面的字——“早日康復(fù)回到家中”——就是我的禱文。
在很多方面我對癌癥感激不盡。這聽上去像瘋?cè)藝艺Z嗎？我絕不希望癌癥降臨到任何人頭上，也絕不想再吃一遍苦，但癌癥是我的老師。是它幫助我珍惜每一天；是它迫使我弄清生活的主次，曾是重要的事情已顯得愚蠢可笑；是它讓我遠(yuǎn)離這個(gè)社會(huì)稱之為神圣的滾滾車輪，引導(dǎo)我去追求我內(nèi)心的愿望，而不是錢夾的鼓脹；是它讓我明白生命是脆弱的，沒有一天是有保證的；是它讓我珍惜我那3個(gè)漂亮的孩子，他們在成長之際讓我傷心過，但也給我?guī)硐矏?，他們現(xiàn)在都已進(jìn)了大學(xué)，拼寫都很好。
在我得了癌癥的第5個(gè)年頭，我辭掉工作，全職寫作。我決定不多寫一字講那些對我不重要的事情。這只是跨出的信念之步，但意義深遠(yuǎn)。癌癥教會(huì)我不要錯(cuò)過自己內(nèi)心的機(jī)會(huì)，因?yàn)闆]有“一天”或“某一天”是保證屬于我們的。
在我40歲生日之際，我和30位親密的朋友乘微型單座賽車漫游慶祝。家里墻上掛著的40這兩個(gè)數(shù)字是那般美麗奪目。
患癌癥后的第10個(gè)年頭，我又有新的慶祝方式——乘船游覽巴西熱帶雨林中的亞馬孫河。我坐在船的層觀看日出，從內(nèi)心最深處，我感激上帝賜予我機(jī)會(huì)，讓我通過面對死亡來體驗(yàn)人生。
你瞧，生活成為一個(gè)接一個(gè)的慶祝。上個(gè)月，我慶祝我患癌癥后活過的第13個(gè)年頭，迎來我的44歲生日。下個(gè)月，我和理查德將要慶祝我們結(jié)婚24周年紀(jì)念日。萊斯利，我的長女，去年已經(jīng)21歲。我的雙胞胎孩子今年也20歲了。他們雖然年輕，但都是成年人了，都在追求自己的夢想，因?yàn)槲液桶┌Y的較量也教育了他們。
我望著我的朋友，回答她的問題。我會(huì)介意說出我的年齡嗎？絕不會(huì)。我真想公開宣布：我44歲啦！我感激我已經(jīng)有了10根灰發(fā)。
當(dāng)我在鏡中凝視自己，注意到嘴角和眼睛周圍出現(xiàn)細(xì)細(xì)線條時(shí)，我可不把它們稱為皺紋。我把它們叫做機(jī)會(huì)。
每一線條都是一次微笑在臉上刻下的印記。這種經(jīng)歷，無論大小，都是來自享受稱為“生活”的這份厚禮。(冥云譯)