What If It Were Me. . .

"Your conscience is the measure of the honesty of your selfishness. Listen to it carefully." - Richard Bach, Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah

What if it were me? That was all I could think, as I left the apartment of my old friend. A friend who is currently struggling with brain cancer.

What if it were me who could no longer  walk without help from a wheelchair or walker. What if it were me who lost my ability to speak or write without difficulty. What if it were me whose life changed in an instant and something so far from my mind, like my ability to live past the day, was now all I could think of. What if it were me.

Variations of these thoughts plagued me, as I cried, yelled, and fell into pity and helplessness. Frustration came from the desperate thoughts that if no one would support my friend, who would support me? Who would run to my side and help me fight an enemy that seems so much bigger than me. What if it were me.

How could they not help him, I thought. What if it were them!? Then I thought, Well, maybe they never think it will be and maybe they're right. Maybe it never will be them or their close friend, or their mother, or their child who has to face something like this. So why is this my motivation? Why am I motivated by the fear that not fighting for my friend equates to no one fighting for me.

How selfish am I!? How could I honestly sit and feel sorry for myself, while my friend is facing one of the biggest challenges of his life!?

When I started to help with his fundraiser, I just wanted to help. I wanted to help just because he needed it. As I became involved in fundraising, I was astonished at how little people seemed to be moved by his story. Even with the simple things, like following a page on social media or giving up a meal at McDonald's to donate $5. I felt like I was pulling teeth to even get help administratively. My thoughts gradually changed from wanting to help to feeling like I had to help. I felt like somehow not helping would be reciprocated in my life at one low point or another. Like not reaching our goal meant we somehow failed ourselves.What a terrible way to think.

I believe we should help someone, when we can, because we can. Not because we're storing up good deeds for a rainy day. We should help because we genuinely care if another person survives or not. 

I love my friend and I'm sorry my mind switched to self-preservation in his time of need. Regardless of whether I ever get cancer or have to fight for my life, I will fight for his. It doesn't matter if it "could be" me, when it is him right now. Our goal is big but we will continue to work towards it. . . for Brandon.

God is still working on me and I don't believe he's done with my friend either :)

Please like our page and give if you can: https://www.facebook.com/100DaysToSaveALife

Love unconditionally | Laugh until you can't any longer | Live life to the best of your ability ;)

My Friend, Brandon

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share out pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand." - Henri Nouwen

I met Brandon at a "Christian party" my freshman year at Spelman (Please don't judge). Writing "Christian Party" out just sounds so funny now but it was the thing to do for the Christian crowd in the AUC. It was a legit party with Christian up-tempo music, food, and dancing (at safe distances, of course). It was unique. Something I will never forget. 

Freshman year was one of the most exciting because of the way you met people and instantly became life-long friends. That's how it was with Brandon. It was a relatively instantaneous friendship. Back then, Brandon was a clown. I mean that in the nicest way possibly, of course. It seems like Brandon would do his best to annoy me into chasing him around. Which meant poking, teasing, hitting, cake throwing (Yes, It happened), relatively anything.

As our friendship grew, I learned a lot about God, ministry, service, friendship, and dedication to people. Brandon always wanted to help someone. Even me. Over the years, I've seen him in his darkest and most vulnerable moments and at any moment, he would drop everything to help someone else.

Time and circumstances had a terrible effect on our friendship. It seems that by the time I heard word of Brandon in 2011, it had been nearly three years since we spoke more than a few words to each other. I hate that it had to have been this news that would bring us back together. 

In the Spring of 2011, I learned that Brandon was in the hospital with a brain tumor. The same lively, happy, loving friend that I had known so well, went to the hospital for headaches only to find something much worse.  

I went to see Brandon in the hospital, shortly after his initial surgery. His mother and some of our mutual friends were surrounding his bed. His head was wrapped with bandages and he could barely speak, but he was laughing and smiling with all of us. I fought my tears that day. I refused to cry, when he still had so much joy and so little information on why this was all happening to him. Although, I wondered. 

At that time, we didn't know whether Brandon was going to make it, nor what he was up against but we were there. We are still here. At the end of 2012, Brandon shared that he would soon be taken off of his mother's health insurance and needed help to insure his medical care would continue. 

In 2013, a group of friends and I started the "100 Days to Save a Life" campaign to help Brandon. We have raised over $4,000 but still have a long way to go. Whether we reach our goal or not, I have it set it my mind that friendship is more than being with something when everything is going well for them. True friendship stays with you in your darkest hour. True friendship holds your hand and fights along side you. I want to be a true friend. 

Please support my friend, Brandon, in raising money to take care of his medical needs. Glimoblastoma is the most common and most aggressive malignant primary brain tumor in humans. This disease does not have specific ties to genetics, race, gender, or age, which means that this could happen to anyone. Prognosis is extremely poor, with a median survival time of approximately 12-14 months. This disease is almost invariable fatal. Yet, Brandon has been fighting it for two years now. 

Please visit our Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/100DaysToSaveALife for more information.