Wednesday, June 16th, 2020.
Zagreb, Croatia.
Today B told me about Ava.
She’s 8 years old and she has a brain tumor. She’s been in and out of chemotherapy in his ward this week. They’ve been treating her for months but her Cancer is aggressive and doesn’t seem to go anywhere.
He said working with her parents is harder than working with her, and I know exactly what he means. Today, she had multiple seizures and between one and the next; she giggled and played with her mother’s hair, while her mother sobbed in despair.
I remember watching little Mariana laughing while Ana caressed the thick scar that wrapped her skull like a snake. Ana would shake her head in denial, and cry quietly while watching her child be cluelessly happy.
Mariana, my niece, was only a few months old when she had to undergo brain surgery. I still don’t fully comprehend the complexity of her health issues, but I know everyone in my family calls her Miracle Mariana for good reasons.
It’s crazy to reflect on the impermanence of life and the perfection of our bodies, but also their fragility.
Our healthy bodies can only tick and exist without complaints when every bit of our humanity is in perfect balance. It’s easy to forget how fortunate we are that all our tiny gears are ticking at the right pace.
It’s easy to forget but boy are we reminded when something (even the tiniest thing) goes out of that mythical balance.
Our bodies squeak and squeal and we have to pray to gods across all heavens so they magically fix what we’ve been breaking for months, if not years.
It’s easy to forget about the magical fairy powder that health is, simply cause it’s so silent. When we have it, we can forget about it and focus on everything else. But when we don’t, there’s nothing else we can focus on. I’ve seen it too many times and painfully close to me.
Tragic, truly.
Gods in all heavens: please keep me healthy.