In many ways in my life, I have been incredibly blessed.
My life story is a bit convoluted, and the specifics of it I prefer to keep private, but I ended up coming from Russia to America, and staying here, where I had a immensely higher chance of attending University than I did back in Moscow (back then, each University had their entrance exams the summer after your senior year, so you could apply to maybe 2-3 schools tops, and if you didn’t make it – mandatory military service. I am not sure how the practice is now). I managed to get an education at a top tier university in a field that is highly in demand (computer science), simply because, at first, I wanted to make video games for a living.
Heck, even my shitty sex life ended up working out great in the long run.
And even if it was destined for me to have Cancer, I lucked out again – Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is one of the most curable and survivable cancers there is. Yeah, chemo sucks, side effects suck, but knowing that I WILL make it it the only motivation I need.
There is one way that I lucked out the most – my mother. She has been my strength, my rock, my confidant throughout my entire life. She is the reason I stayed here in the USA, legally I might add, got a top tier education, became an American citizen.
Since my Cancer diagnosis, her help and support is proving invaluable. She helps with everything – scheduling, lifestyle changes, medication. She has been there by my side during every treatment and doctor visit. I thank her every day, and I know that I would respond the exact same way in a heartbeat if she needed my help.
Because of her, it’s been hard for me to relate to some of the stuff coming out of the manosphere – especially the “All Women Are Like That” (or AWALT) mantra, which is incredibly widespread. Granted – I have met some truly terrible women, and the internet is filled with plentiful examples of terrible mothers, the most fascination of which to read is the subreddir /r/raisedbynarcissists - highly recommended when you have some time, I spent hours there when i first discovered it.
With Cancer, however, everything becomes different. People have shown me their brightest, most supportive and wonderful sides. It is where family bonds become the strongest. At least that’s what I thought.
Flash back to last week, my mother and I were leaving the treatment facility, then we looked at each other and I said “I saw evil today”.
About an hour earlier, while we were in the waiting room at the doctors office, I overheard a family talking nearby – a father, mother and daughter. The daughter was starting chemo next week – and she had the same protocol as I had – which includes this new drug that has only been out of clinical trials for treating Hodgkin’s Lymphoma in late 2014. There was not too many first hand account on various blogs and forums about this type of treatment, I would know, my mother and I read a LOT of them. So I decided to introduce myself to this family.
The daughter was very pleasant, and I did my best to put her mind at ease. The father seemed the most nervous out of the three. And then the mother laid this gem out:
“They told us the first treatment is 8 hours at least, is there a place I can go near by? Is there stuff to do? 8 hours is a really long time, I gotta do something to not get bored”.
I was shocked, my mom was shocked, we of course didn’t show it because we didn’t want to raise a stink at the doctors office.
The day of my first treatment, I ended up spending nearly 12 hours in the hospital. That new miracle drug takes a very long time to administer the first time, a small price to pay for a miracle drug with no side effects. My mother was with me in that little room the entire day. Later on she told me that the time felt like nothing, that it flew by, and that she was nervous and on edge the entire time.
I could feel the same type of dedication from this girl’s father. I could tell that when he asked me questions, how he looked at me. I was certain that he would be there all day.
The mother however, barely asked anything. except about the concerns of her own boredom. To borrow a term often overused by the SJW horde – “wow, just wow”.
Listen, lady – FUCK YOU. That’s your little girl. No matter how old she is – that’s your baby. That’s your blood, that’s your legacy, and that’s how you treat her?
There’s bad people out there, sometimes even close to you, and that is the toughest Red Pill to swallow. I’m just glad that this is one thing that I will never have to go through.
Once again, I am truly blessed, and I hope you are too.
And to the parents that are reading this – love your kids, you are their strength, they are yours.