Tumors, cancer, and the individual

When I was studying Northern Renaissance Art as an undergrad, the professor said something about the genre that really struck me, and that was that unlike the Italian Renaissance and Baroque, where the artists always fixated on these huge, earth-changing events like the birth of Jesus, as if the entire world took pause to realize the enormity of the moment, the artists of the lowlands knew that all events - births, deaths, marriages, breakups - are of little to no interest to anyone but those involved.

On Wednesday, April 2, while undergoing an exam, doctors found a large tumor in my lower GI tract. Yes, that is as good as it sounds. It has been very hard to adjust from being a normal person wrapped up in grad school, money, relationships, and what I am going to do this summer, to being a person who has cancer. I am reminded again of losing my father and how much the world changed for me in that single moment.

What is strangest for me, in this process of adjustment, is that it is my battle. It is not just a physical battle, but a mental one as well. I have to come to terms with my world having been changed as quickly as a bolt of lightning. I have to deal with the anger of not having done something sooner, and if I will face the ultimate price for my inaction. I have to deal with it in a world where very few know or care, and I tell myself, why should they? Somewhere, a child has died in his mother's arms. Somewhere, a teenager found out she has MS. Somewhere, a woman had a miscarriage. Today, Beyonce and Jay-Z are getting married.

So I have to face my battle, and the people who love me are hoping, and praying, and supporting me. I am scared, I am angry, I am nervous, but I also know how strong I am. I also know that the farmers will keep plowing, the merchants will keep selling, and the ships will keep sailing even as Icarus falls into the sea.