The one monster that truly exists. Unpredictable funneling skies that swallow everything it comes across. Looming darkness. That's hell. It's really unfortunate that such a monster exists—an evil we cannot defeat. All we can do is hide, hold on, & hope to god that it doesn't find us. All we can do is watch in horror as the sky comes to make a meal out of us, just to spit us out into an unrecognizable heap of what once was. Mangled among flesh and metal alike. Families torn apart, people torn apart. Gashes down to the bone, permanent disfigurement. It doesn't care. It doesn't care. It doesn't care. We don't stand a chance; we never did.

 

I want to meet this monster face-to-face at least once before I die. Whether I die to it or live to tell people about it. I think that being eaten by the atmosphere's chaos is a better way to go out than my own inevitable fall to illness. I would rather be ripped to shreds by a storms most violent phenomenon than watch my own body fail me. Personally, storm-chasing isn't for me; I don't like the idea of driving, but that might change once I'm fully able to do so. I want to work more on overcoming my own anxieties & facing my life-long fears. Tornadoes & severe storms have haunted my dreams my entire life. The thought of the smallest funnel cloud being spotted nearby petrified me, though I still feel like that's as rational as a fear can get.

 

My newfound fascination with weather in general started a couple of weeks ago. Strong winds hit my area & shook the cars outside my window for around 5 minutes while it rained heavily & hail fell from the sky. I went to check the local weather forecast & told my friend Ace about the storm that had just passed through my neighborhood. He sent me a video about Oklahoma tornadoes, & something changed in my barely functioning brain at the time.

 

What once terrified me to my core now fascinates me to such an extreme extent. The desperation in life-or-death situations has always fascinated me, though. It's all so extremely human. There's no time to think about masking your feelings in times like this. In these moments, we're all people trying to survive. There's something beautiful in that, I think. as terrifying & tragic as it is. To be afraid is to be human. frantically trying to escape the looming monster coming straight for you, a beast that will surely tear you apart. I have not personally lived this, & while I've dealt with frantic times of need, I cannot imagine how it must feel to be in the path of such a destructive force of nature; to be so sure you are going to be eaten alive.

 

My heart goes out to the many victims of the sky over the years; no one deserves a life cut short. I just hope that wherever they pass over to is peaceful, & that survivors recover swiftly & smoothly. God bless you all, regardless of my personal spiritual beliefs.

 

This all makes me think about my own mortality as well as everyone else's. People die every second. People are dying as I type this. I've always known that I don't have as much time on this earth as most people because of my medical history. Dying to a monster of nature rather than the self-made monster of malignancy seems more appealing to me, but in a way, I do believe they are quite similar.

 

Different cancers can often be avoided, just as different tornadoes can often be avoided. Less severe malignancies, like my follicular thyroid carcinoma, don't cause as much critical damage, but they're still quite destructive. My cancer needed targeted radiation therapy & only managed to take my thyroid with it, similar to how smaller storms may only take the roof off your house & kill some of your livestock. Destructive & harmful, but not necessarily deadly. My unfavorable nephroblastoma was a lot like a larger, more violent storm, and while tornadoes can't be treated in the moment, you can still take shelter from the wind. Risky treatments that could go wrong in specific circumstances. Homes are often flattened & torn to shreds. Some can rebuild, some can't. Some unfortunately didn't survive the initial storm, while others could not survive the aftermath. I am fortunate enough to be able to rebuild. I can recover from this even though my life has been irreversibly changed. Though houses can be rebuilt entirely stronger than before, I don't think that's the case for me. Heavy rain still causes significant leaks, infections are still a threat to me, but I am still so thankful that I can live to hear another storm. For some, the rain that wrapped the swirling beast was the last bit of water they ever got to taste; those violent, destructive winds held the last breath of air they ever got to let into their lungs. The hospital I was discharged from after my treatments was the last place some ever got to know. So many never got to go home to their families. So many people never got to feel happy & healthy again. So many never got the chance to rebuild after such a devastating storm.

 

I am forever grateful for this body. I am forever grateful for the clear skies of my hometown. I am forever grateful for everything I get to experience in this life. I'm not sure how long I actually have left, but once again, I'm grateful that I even get to wonder about these things. My life isn't perfect, but I still get to live it.