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The Brave Spider 

“But I’m only twenty-five years old.”
“I know.”
“I’ve got two boys to raise by myself.”
I sat in Dr. Anderson’s office, trying to convince him that I didn’t have time for cancer, that I couldn’t work it into my schedule and that I simply would not be told that I had it.
“I’m in my twenties, for God’s sake,” I shouted. “No one my age gets cancer.”
Dr. Anderson stood quietly by while I cursed, cried and yelled, and when I didn’t have it in me anymore, I collapsed onto his sofa, wishing it was just a bad dream. My mind was racing with the finality of it all.
“Jamie, are you okay?”
Dr. Anderson’s voice was smooth and calm. I resented him immediately.
“Am I okay?” I screeched. “No, I’m not. What am I going to do?
What was I going to tell Aaron and Ryan, my boys, my buddies, my little babies?”
“This is not the end,” Dr. Anderson said. I could hear a touch of panic in his voice as he saw the blood draining from my face. “We can talk about surgery and medication. You’re young; you can get through this.”
It was as if I was hearing him from inside a tunnel. My mind latched onto key words like, “not the end,” “surgery,” and “get through this.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can do a partial mastectomy.”
Dr. Anderson spoke quickly to hold my attention.
“This type of surgery may do you well in the long run but the main thing is, we can get the cancer.”
His eyes were soft and I knew he meant what he was saying.

“When?” was all I asked.
“As soon as possible,” he replied. “The less time we give it to spread the better, and judging from your mammogram, we stand a good chance of getting it all.”
“So,” I hesitated, “there is a chance that you might not.”
“There is always that chance, yes,” Dr. Anderson said.
A week later, I went under the knife. After surgery, Dr. Anderson explained that he thought they had gotten it all.
After several days in the hospital, I arrived home to find my sons, Aaron, who was nine years old, and Ryan, who had just turned four, waiting at the front door with flowers and homemade cards. They led me to the bedroom, helped me into bed and then crawled in with me. Aaron read me a story while Ryan huddled close. We fell asleep together.
I had made it through surgery, but the hard part was just beginning. I started chemo three days later. Each time, I spent several hours in my bathroom afterwards, vomiting. The chemo made me tired and sick and it didn’t take long before I began to regret the surgery.
One day I came home from chemo and headed straight for the bathroom to throw up. An hour later, I slid to the floor and felt like I would stay there, wedged between the toilet and the shower, and cry myself to death. The boys were out so I could wail as loudly as I needed. I tried to stand up but couldn’t find the strength. I managed to grab a bottle of painkillers the doctor had prescribed with about twenty left. I popped the cap and poured them all into my hand.
As I lifted my hand, pills and all, to my mouth, I heard the front door open. The boys were home. I put my head down on the toilet seat and cried. My hand began to sweat on the pills. Ryan appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face and his hand held out proudly. When he realized I was crying, his smile disappeared and he began to cry too.
He ran inside the room and threw his free hand around my neck. He wasn’t about to let go of whatever he had in the other hand.
“Ryan, Mommy is okay. I was just sad for a minute.” He sniffled and tried to read my face, to see if I was telling the truth. I did my best to smile. Ryan smiled too, and hugged me.
“It’s okay, Mommy,” he cooed, rubbing my hair.
I asked him what was in his hand. He burst into a grin, and as he held it out I screamed in surprise. In Ryan’s small hand lay a Daddy Longlegs, which he displayed proudly. At first I thought the spider was dead but then it moved.
“Ryan,” I said sternly. “Take that thing back outside.” He looked up at me suddenly concerned.
“But Mommy,” he protested. “He’s special, look.”
I looked. It was a spider. I wasn’t getting it.
“I named him Harry. He only has seven legs, see.” I looked at Ryan’s new pet and sure enough, he only had five legs.
“Harry might have run into a monster spider or a bird and it tore off  his leg,” Ryan explained.
“But Harry keeps on living with just seven legs. Look Mommy, Harry doesn’t give up.”
I sat there in awe. I suddenly realized how selfish I had been to even consider giving up. Here was my baby boy looking at the world with such innocent eyes and learning some very big lessons from a bug, of all things. I hugged Ryan close for a long time. He hugged me back just as hard and for just as long. As we sat there holding each other, marveling over Harry, the seven-legged spider, I dropped that handful of pills into the toilet and flushed it. My younger son was saving my life.

蜘蛛教会我坚强

“但是我才只有25岁。”
 
“我知道。”

“我有两个儿子要独自抚养。”

我坐在安德森医生的办公室里极力说服他，我无暇顾及癌症，而且我没法把治疗安排到我的日程之中，我根本不能接受自己患有癌症的消息。

“我的老天爷，我才20来岁。”我大喊着，“像我这样的年纪，没有人会得癌症。”

我诅咒着、哭喊着，安德森医生则静静地站在一旁。等平静下来，我便瘫坐在沙发上，希望这只是一个噩梦而已。满脑子都是那个可怕的结果。

“洁美，你还好吧？”

安德森医生的声音平缓而镇定。一瞬间我对他的不满油然而生。

“我好吗？”我大叫起来。“不，我很糟糕。我该怎么办呢？

我该对我那两个朝夕相处的宝贝儿子，亚伦和瑞安，说什么呢？”

“这并非末日来临。”安德森医生说。当他看到我的脸涨得通红，我能听出他的声音中有一丝惶恐。“我们可以先谈谈手术以及用药办法。你很年轻，你一定能挺过来的。”

我听到他的声音好像是从地洞里传出来的，含糊不清。脑海中只有几个词挥之不去——“不是末日”、“手术”以及“挺过来”。
“你有什么想法？”

“我们可以做一个部分乳腺切除术。”

安德森医生脱口而出引起了我的注意。
 
“从长远来看，这种手术对你很有好处。最主要的是，我们能清除癌症。”
 
他的眼神柔和，我明白了他的话值得信赖。
 
“什么时候做手术？”我问。

“尽早做。”他答道。“我们给癌细胞扩散的时间越短越好。从你的x光片子判断，我们有相当大的把握彻底清除癌细胞。”

“也就是说，”我迟疑着问，“你们也有可能没法彻底清除。”
 
“有那种可能，你说得对。”安德森医生说。
 
一周后，我做了手术。术后，安德森医生告诉我，他认为手术很成功，所有的癌细胞都被切除了。
 
住院几天后，我一回到家就看到两个儿子，九岁的亚伦和刚刚四岁的瑞安，正等在前门，手里捧着鲜花和自制的贺卡。他俩带我来到卧室，把我扶上床，然后爬过来钻进被窝。亚伦给我读了一个故事，瑞安紧紧依偎着我。我们一起进入了梦乡。

我顺利地度过了手术关。然而更难熬的日子才刚刚开始。三天后我开始接受化疗。每次化疗后我都会在卫生间呆上几个小时呕吐不止。化疗令我痛苦不堪，不久我便开始后悔当初做手术的决定。

一天我做完化疗回家，便径直去了卫生间，呕吐起来。一小时后，我无力地跌坐在地上，感觉自己好像被楔进了马桶与淋浴之间的缝隙。我恸哭失声，悲痛欲绝。孩子们都出去玩了，因此我可以无所顾忌，尽情宣泄。我想站起来，但是却毫无力气。我吃力地抓过一瓶医生给我开的止痛药，里面还剩下二十片。我砰的一声打开盖子，把药丸全都倒进手里。

我抬起手把药丸送到嘴边。正在这时，我听到前门被打开了。是孩子们回家了。我把头靠在马桶座圈上，哭了起来。握着药丸的手心开始出汗。瑞安出现在门口，他的脸上带着笑容，一只手得意地伸在前面。当他发觉我正在哭泣的时候，他立即收起了笑容，也开始哭了起来。

他跑进卫生间，伸出那只空闲的手搂住我的脖子。看来他并不打算放走握在另一只手里的任何东西。
 
“瑞安，妈妈没事。我只是稍微有点难受。”他哽咽着，观察我的脸色，试图找出我是否说的是真话。我尽力掩饰，露出微笑，瑞安也笑了同时抱住我。

“你好了，妈妈。”他一边摩挲着我的头发，一边轻声耳语。

我问他那只手里是什么。他调皮地一笑。当他把手展开，我吃惊地叫出声来——在瑞安的小手里竟然趴着一只成年长腿蜘蛛。起初我以为那是一只死蜘蛛，但是随后它却动了起来。

“瑞安，”我严厉地说，“把它送出去。”他始料未及，抬头看了看我。

“但是，妈妈，”他辩解着，“瞧，这只蜘蛛与众不同。”

我看过去。那就是一只蜘蛛。没有什么异样。
 
“我叫他哈里。你看，他只有七条腿。”我仔细地端详着瑞安的新宠物，的确，他只有五条腿。
 
“哈里可能是碰上了一只大蜘蛛或是一只鸟，因此他的一条腿被拽掉了。”瑞安分析着。
 
“不过哈里仍然拖着七条腿顽强地活着。看，妈妈，哈里并没放弃。”

我静静地坐在那里，心中充满敬畏。突然间我意识到自己曾经考虑过放弃是多么的自私。而眼下小儿子正站在我的面前，用他如此纯真的眼神看着整个世界，并从这只蜘蛛身上学会了有关万物的一些非常重要的道理。我紧紧地搂住瑞安，久久不愿放开。瑞安同样紧紧地抱住我很久很久。我们俩相依相偎，坐在那里。我惊叹于这只七条腿的蜘蛛——哈里的顽强，于是将手里的一把药丸扔进了马桶，并放水冲走。是我的小儿子挽救了我的生命。（编辑：胡慧）

（原著Jamie Farris 洁美•法瑞斯 摘自http://www.beliefnet.com）