Saturday, May 13, 2017


I'm an eternal optimist. I look on the bright side with my glass half full. I believe that there is good in everyone and that some good can come from even the worst situations.

This perspective was shaken when I found out about my 4-year-old nephew's cancer diagnosis. But I am learning new things about perspective.

You see, my optimistic perspective is just my point of view, but the perspective I am learning about is the second entry in the dictionary definition,

noun: perspective
  • a particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view.
  • true understanding of the relative importance of things; a sense of proportion.
Knox was diagnosed on a Monday. We all had a pretty good idea that the doctors would say it was cancer, but until we received the text from his mom following the appointment, we hoped and wished and prayed we were wrong.  That was a dark day. Reality hit hard and fear set in. In fact, that was the last day I wrote on here - unable to sleep and thinking about what the future might look like for my little nephew and his family and feeling so angry that this was their new normal.

Now Tuesday was PETscan day and we were all wracked with worry as we awaited the results. This would tell us if the cancer in his femur bone had spread anywhere else in his body. Now to keep things "in perspective", we had just learned on Monday that Knox had Osteosarcoma, a very rare bone cancer that when you take into account his age, is so rare that there may only be as few as 4 children diagnosed with it this year, WORLDWIDE. A quick Google search will tell you that the survival rate of this disease is 70%, and that is not a conforting statistic.  Now 24 hours later, I was keeping myself busy doing laundry when I received a group text message from his dad.

PET scan is clear!!!!!!!

Never had four words looked better! I'm pretty sure I jumped a foot in the air before running to tell my husband in the other room! Other family members recounted screaming aloud at receiving the news.

The diagnosis and treatment plan were still the same, we knew that. But somehow, it was if they had told us all that he was miraculously cancer free! I was filled with such JOY I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. This was the "true understanding of the relative importance of things" definition of perspective in play.

Now since then I have noticed more and more the importance of perspective:

Instead of being heartbroken about the reality that her son would lose his hair,
My sister thought of a way to build community support for him while raising funds for another cause

Instead of being frustrated that he got an uncontrollably bloody nose in the car
She was just grateful she was already en route to the doctor

Instead of being homesick as the overnight trip turned into 2 nights, and 3 and 4,
She was so happy to be in a hospital where they could monitor everything

Instead of being scared as she watched his levels plummet,
She said, "the chemo must really be working"

Instead of wallowing alone in her hospital room, 
She reached out to others going through similar circumstances

She met a little girl who had been born with a congenital heart defect and undergone multiple open heart surgeries as a baby...Whose father had died when she was two... Who was diagnosed with Leukemia as a toddler and was in the midst of chemo treatments... Whose stepfather had been diagnosed with a brain tumor...
...and my sister counted her own blessings

Her eternal perspective colors the lenses through which she views the world. 

Perspective is an amazing thing. 
If you just shift your focus, you may see things in a whole new light.

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