Thread

By: Gabriela Yareliz

6:00 am: Woke up. Ate my two gummy vitamins. Watched some Stephen Colbert, after morning prayer.

7:00 am: On the train with three magazines stuffed in my bag for comfort. I don’t open the magazine I was reading the day before. I am not particularly interested in reading about the Egyptian president right now. The magazines are more like a security blanket. I listen to a podcast, Pardon My French, with Garance Dore and Elle MacPherson. It’s about health and wellness.

8:15 am: I am walking through the West Village. I start mentally trying to convince myself to get an overpriced cold pressed juice at Liquiteria. I decide against it. I stick to my water.

9:03 am: Back at the cancer center today for a test that is supposed to reveal the state of what cannot be seen or felt. The technician is stoic, and there are bright colors on the screen that leave me nervous. Red splotches. I remind myself I don’t know how to read what is on the screen. I sit shivering.

What does this mean? Why does uncertainty drive us crazy? Why is it that we forget that life is but a thread guarded by the Divine, at every moment?

9:09 am: Doctor tells me that all evaluations have finally been completed, and no biopsy will be needed because I am ok. I nod like a zombie and thank her. I grab my belongings, and go to the changing room.

9:12 am: I lock the door in the changing room and start sobbing from relief. The tears come pouring out. Very unexpected. After I compose myself, I share the news with family by text.

9:20 am: This nightmare is over.
I let my deodorant dry, I put on my sweater, and I decide that since I am alive and well, it’s time to start living that way. I need to take better care of myself. More balance. I decide on a gluten free French breakfast as a solo celebratory meal. Again, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

Thread. It’s a curious thing. It can be strong, and it can be weak. It can be knotted, and it can snap. It can unravel and be forgotten, and it can be used to pull together and be essential.

I want 2017 to be the year of wellness. I want to practice more gratitude. I want to learn to enjoy everything fought for and received through the present.

This is a recommitment to God, health principles, family, love, kindness and mindfulness– everything that has brought me here. After this experience, I know I need to do better; and I will. We never know. Thread can be an unpredictable thing.