a flip of the coin and a loss of ourselves

I have a good friend who is having a masectomy on Thursday. She is one of these people who has her feet firmly on the ground and always gives the impression that she is in control of herself and can manage herself successfully through any fire. I know a lot of this is a massive front. How can this kind of thing not knock you on off your feet, at least for a while?

But this operation - this "cure". Does the end justify the means?

In this case, of course it does. How can you view a life-saving operation as anything but good? At this point, her prognosis is good - we'll know more after her surgery on Thursday. So the most likely scenario is that this will take care of the cancer and she'll go on to keep raising her son and daughter (exactly the same ages as my two, who, incidently, are great friends). She'll keep living her life with her wonderful husband and raising and showing her llamas and she'll keep being a good friend to old friends and new acquaintences.

But she'll be minus an important part of herself. I've been feeling claustraphobic in my own body as a result of thinking of this too much. We don't have a lot of options. We're given this one body, this one life, and if it gets screwed up, whether by choice or by chance, well, that's pretty much it, isn't it? How must it feel to lose a hand? An arm? A leg? A breast? You can have a facsimile put in its place that will look normal to the outside world, but an essential part of yourself is gone. What *are* the essential parts of ourselves? I know that our personality, or souls, for those of you of religious persuasions, is the heart of who we are. But our bodies are the physical manifestations of who we are. I can't help but feel sad for the loss my friend is about to undergo, and the losses of all these kids over in the middle east who are losing arms and legs and hands and eyesight.

It *is* claustraphobic to realize how limited we really are. I got into an argument with my friend B many years ago when I thought I had cancer. I argued how fragile life was and he argued how resilient it was. Is it possible that we are both right?

You will get no great insight from this post. I'm just rambling, and I realize that. I guess I'm grieving with my friend, and trying to understand what she is about to go through. I'm also realizing that by a simple flip of a coin, this is something I, or we all, could go through in the future.

You can't fight the current. It's actually very peaceful to give in to it and let it carry you and the ones you love wherever it may.

Nameste.