Penelope's Path

   This journey makes you feel like you are hiking in the middle of the woods. Alone with your thoughts, but surrounded by so much more.  Every step you take might take you closer to the "end", but it also takes you farther away from what once was.  My trail is a waxed tile floor accompanied by hundreds of other hikers making their way through their own personal Hell.  My sky is filled with lights and tiles. All rectangles, all the same.  To my left are people with their own terrible story. Instead of taking a break by the creek, they are sitting in wheelchairs and plastic wagons, waiting on the next breath of energy to make it to the next appointment.  To my right are trees painted on the wall with the stupidest animal faces I've ever seen.  Why is the lion the same height as that monkey with too long of arms?  Somebody bought the wrong sticker pack and said Screw it, nobody looks at these anyways.  Well I do Mr. Maintenance man; I have to, every single day.
   Elevators are like the one escape you get.  When the door closes, you take a breath.  For that few moments, you can just breathe, stare at the numbers, and not give a dang what just happened.  I don't know of anyone that really thinks hard in an elevator. You just enjoy the ride.  When that door opens, it's like a whole new world again.  Now this world still sucks, but it is at least a new part of the path for a few moments.  There are still Dads pulling wagons down the hall, nodding to each other with that sense of "Hey man, I know how it is." Everything around you, as happy as they try to make this shit show, reminds you that nothing about this journey will be enjoyable even on this floor.  I'll give it to St. Jude's though.  The aquariums and play centers they have going on are legit.  At least waiting to get your next diagnosis is colorful and active.  The setting of this journey isn't exactly hiking in Glacier National Park, but it could be worse.  This place could not exist.
   I saw this on a shirt for Infantile Spasms, It was pretty cool and it leads me to my next thought.  "I might not like the ride, but my tour guide is pretty awesome."
   Before me is this little girl in pigtails smiling at her little turtle that my buddies bought her.  She doesn't care where this path takes us; she has all she wants in her little world.  She has us, her cartoons, and her few stuffed animals she loves.  She looks up at me and still smiles to this day.  No brain tumor, spinal tumor, nodules, or abnormalities can take her smile away.  She doesn't see the pain and BS that this journey takes us through because that's all she knows.  She doesn't know it isn't supposed to hurt or that you aren't supposed to get poked and prodded all the time.  She screams in pain, but knows that her Mom and Dad will be there to do everything they can to take it away.  She loves her Grandparents because they are on this journey with her.  Penelope hasn't had it easy, but that smile would tell you different.
   This journey will make us stronger.  It sure has beat the hell out of me in the process, but I know it is nothing compared to what my Sweet P endures daily in her little world.  I have to learn from her.  I need to be content with what is on this journey with me and just ride it out.  I have my wife that helps take the pain away.  I have this journal that lets me decompress.  I have family and friends that are amazing and have gone far beyond what I could imagine.  I need to sit and enjoy the moment like P does with her turtle and her cartoons.  Yes this sucks beyond comprehension, but it is life.  It is my life and I will not let it beat me down.  Penelope has shown more strength in two years than I have my whole life.  I have kids in the classroom that deserve my strength and kids on the football field that need life lessons along with their run plays.  I will be better and enjoy the moment.  I didn't pick the wrong path. Penelope's Path picked me, and I have to keep on truckin. That's what she deserves.