Would You Rather…

Would You Rather

I am sure most people have at some point or another played the “Would You Rather” game with friends or new acquaintances. Would you rather arrive 20 minutes early wherever you go, or arrive 10 minutes late? Would you rather only be able to use a fork or only be able to use a spoon? This game can spark some interesting conversations and let you learn a bit more about the people that you are playing the game with. Sometimes the questions get real weird, and other times, they get all too realistic. 

About a month or so after my diagnosis, I was with a group of friends and we started playing the game, coming up with a few crazy questions. Then, one friend asked the question, “Would you rather fall down every time you took ten steps, or have to turn in a circle every ten steps?”. People started weighing the pros and cons of falling down every so often or having to turn around in a circle. Which one would be worse. One friend just couldn’t imagine falling down all the time. 

This is about where I lost it and had to walk out of the room. I started doing dishes in the kitchen and tried staying away from the conversation. A few minutes pass by and my husband, Mitchell comes and finds me. He is concerned that I am mad at him for some reason (I have no idea why he didn’t do anything lol). I started crying and told him that I couldn’t play a game that felt all too real for my future. I couldn’t sit there and say I would rather turn in circles because who knows if I am going to be able to walk. Who knows if someday I will only be able to make it ten steps before I fall down. 

Let’s be real here. I was DEFINITELY a bit sensitive at the time. Things were still fresh and fears were intense. However, there is still a part of me that has a new hatred for this game. This game I started realizing I was playing with myself upon diagnosis. Would I rather lose my eyesight again, or lose my ability to walk? Would I rather have bladder dysfunction or sexual dysfunction? Would I rather have tingling sensations and numbness or weakness and fatigue? The problem with my version of the game is that it isn’t an either/or situation. I potentially could lose all of those abilities. Or, I could be fine and not notice a problem with any of those. I don’t get to choose what my disease will take away from me. And, the hope is that if and when I have another relapse, it won’t take the ability fully away from me.

It is important for me to stop playing this stupid game with myself. I can’t control, pick and choose, or stop anything from happening. My disease is going to do what it chooses to do. And life doesn’t give us the option of choosing “would you rather” situations. Sometimes we think we would rather have the other “terrible” option, but in reality, we don’t want either.  

This game is a classic get-to-know-you game and game to help pass the time with friends. It is bound to come up again and I need to be prepared for those questions that might feel real too real to me. No one wants to go blind or lose their ability to walk. That is the whole point of the game. Choose what you think is the better of the two terrible options. I can’t control my future and there is no reason to stress about it.

The Unknown and My Faith

The next time I am faced with the fears of the unknown of my disease’s course, I plan to turn to the Psalms. Back in Middle School, I learned the value of the book of Psalms. When I was in Middle School, I was incredibly angry with God over the loss of a loved one. The person that passed away was young and had their whole life ahead of them. It was an unexpected death and it was the first time I experienced pain in this way (nowadays, I consider myself lucky that I made it until my teens until I experienced deep sorrow). I remember going to a church camp that I didn’t want to go because I was so angry. When I was in my small group and the leader wanted me to share, I remember sharing my anger and concerns about my faith. I remember complaining about the circumstances and how “life isn’t fair”. This leader that I complained to battled breast cancer on and off for YEARS (I want to say maybe 8. Unfortunately, cancer won, and she is in heaven now). This leader was so patient and loving. She listened and heard my concerns. She didn’t tell me that I was wrong and she didn’t try to change my mind. She simply encouraged me to start reading the Psalms. She told me that the Psalms were people just like me that were honest in their feelings with God. That it was okay to be angry about situations and be upset with life outcomes. That our relationship with God becomes real when we can turn to him with our honest heart. 

I have learned over the years that God doesn’t want us to just come to him when we are happy. He wants the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, and over-the-moon joy. He wants us to be real. I want a God that understands me and understands that I am sad sometimes. I want a God that I can rejoice when good things happen and a God that hears me when I am scared or alone. I am thankful that I learned that my God is all of these things and more. He knows my heart and knows everything about me. He knows when I am mad at Him, and he knows when I am on good terms with Him. He loves me more than I can imagine. 

One short verse Psalm 73:26 feels fitting for today.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Psalm 73:26

No one is guaranteed an easy, healthy life. We don’t know what challenges our body might face, we don’t know whether our bodies will fail us. I know that my body may not be strong forever, but my hope is that each day I am strengthening my trust and relationship in Christ. He will be my forever and help me in my struggles.