Sunday, May 27, 2007

Lessons from the funny papers

This morning while the coffee G had made was brewing, I settled onto the couch for my 58 year (at least) Sunday morning ritual of reading the Sunday comics. That has always been the section I head for first thing. It works well for us. G usually doesn’t read them at all. So they are mine - all mine.

I got to thinking about the impact the "funny papers" have had on my life through these years. When I was a small child, I was aware of measuring time. I had years and months down pretty well, but weeks were another thing.

I, like most young children, couldn’t wait for Christmas. Keeping up with the weeks until Christmas was something I couldn’t always grasp. When I was a child, we didn’t attend a "high church" so I knew nothing of an Advent wreath which would have made the wait make more sense, but my dad and I had a kind of advent wreath. It was using the number of "funny papers" until Christmas. Every Sunday I would ask how many more funny papers until Christmas.


I have found inspiration in the pages of these comics. I have found solace. I have found escape. I've found lessons in their frames. They have been important in my life.

Today was no exception, but I didn’t know what was coming. Since my diagnosis of cancer, I have looked upon the disease as though it was just a simple infection. We do the surgery; we do the treatments, and we get over it. Simple as that. No big deal. It’s not like it’s deadly or something. I mean really!

Then today I read one of my favorite strips. One of the characters has been fighting breast cancer for a number of years. She went for a scan, and was told she was fine. Then her physician found that her results had been confused with someone else’s. She is back in chemo and her prognosis doesn’t look good.


That brought me to reality. Although I have great confidence that I will get through this with no lingering problems, there is that chance. It IS cancer, after all. I shouldn’t take my complete recovery for granted. It may not happen. Another lesson to be taken to heart.


I wonder how many more "funny papers" are in my future? I wish there were an answer this time.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I think the same way you do....I try to ignore that I have/had breast cancer. Just had my new base line mammogram and the report came back with "appears normal". That is a nice and safe phrase: appears and although I am taking the approach that I am no longer with cancer I'm not that dumb, I'm still scared.