In the Embrace of the Storm: A Dance with Uncertainty

By Lena Terzic

This book is the story of my battle against cancer, filled with challenges and personal discoveries. Altough I did not have the support of my family, my inner will and determination guided me through the toughest moments. Every page shows how, faced with uncertainty, I found strength within myself and learned to overcome obstacles.

This is not just a story about illness, but also about discovering one's own strength and resilience. I want to inspire everyone facing difficult times, showing that even without external support, willpower and courage can bring light to the darkest moments. Join me on this journey toward healing and hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lena Terzic
• Release date: Oct 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227514752

Book preview

They swore...

I SOLEMNLY PROMISE that I will dedicate my life to the service of humanity;

THE HEALTH AND WELL-BEING OF MY patient will be my foremost concern;

I WILL RESPECT the autonomy and dignity of my patient;

I WILL ALWAYS RESPECT human life;

I WILL NOT ALLOW any consideration regarding age, disease or disability, creed, ethnic origin, gender, nationality, political affiliation, race, sexual orientation, social standing, or any other factor to influence my duty to my patient;

I WILL RESPECT the secrets that are confided in me, even after the patient has died;

I WILL PERFORM my professional duties conscientiously and with dignity, in accordance with good medical practice;

I WILL UPHOLD the honor and noble traditions of the medical profession;

I WILL GIVE due respect and gratitude to my teachers, colleagues, and students;

I WILL SHARE my medical knowledge for the benefit of my patients and the advancement of healthcare;

I MAKE THIS PROMISE solemnly and freely, on my honor.

You will understand why the Hippocratic oath is the first thing I wrote in this book through its reading. More than anything, I would love to believe that I am the only one who has missed the entire Hippocratic concept of honor and responsibility, that I am the only one for whom some of the words of this oath have been completely forgotten, neglected, or ignored. I am afraid to even think that they were unknown to the doctor in my case, how my doctor had no idea that he had taken an oath. Unfortunately, the time we live in—or to be completely honest, the time we think we live in, because we merely exist and are—shows every day that the great Hippocrates has misjudged his faith in future generations of the medical profession. If he could have predicted or at least suspected how human life would become insignificant and human health merely the most lucrative business in the world, it is questionable what kind of oath we would be witnessing.

*****

With our arrival in this beautiful world, we bring along a whole treasury of invisible paper and just as many pencils. The paper is blank, and the pencil waits, waiting to inscribe the first letters, words, and sentences.

As small and innocent beings, we are completely unaware that others will teach us and instill a deep belief that this wonderful world is not so wonderful, that not everything that glitters is gold, and that wood and stones will await us on our journey. They will teach us that life is a struggle, an uncharted territory. But we have no need to explore it ourselves; they will show us how it's done. How to live. How to fight. They have already gone through it and know how—professionals in creating a laborious life. And then they call that life.

Thus, while we inscribe the first pages of our lives on that invisible paper, we are actually rewriting. We retell and replay someone else’s life, deeply convinced that it is our own.

The invisible becomes visible in an instant, and we have transformed into adults, copies of those who taught us that life is not a fairy tale.

Stones pinch our feet, and branches rain down on us wherever we turn. Ah, they said it should be this way. We need to roll up our sleeves because we must grapple with that monster called life.

Of course, as we were taught, we started to just get by. We began to see obstacles in almost everything, a hard struggle with no results. We just started to rush around the paths life led us down. We became blind to all the beauty around us.

The sun shines high in the sky, but we are convinced it shines only because it has to. That’s its job. And its job is also to make us sweat, to change the color of our faces and hands, so we walk around colorful. Despite being so colorful, we complain about the sun because the weather is too hot. Then the rain falls, bringing with it autumn. But we were told that autumn is gloomy and sad. They even sing to us about that heavy, dreary autumn. It sticks yellowed, fallen leaves to our heels, holds an umbrella in our hands, and we drag wet coats behind us. On every corner of the city, at least one passerby curses autumn and the puddles in the street.

And so, while cursing autumn, winter begins to nip at our cheeks, and the yellowed leaves at our heels are replaced by stuck-together snowflakes. We drag ourselves through the snowdrifts, sluggish and disheartened. Our hands are blue and cold. We frown because winter is too long, eternal. We just want spring to come quickly.

And then it does come. That troublesome spring, with so much work ahead of us. The spring rain falls and falls. The sun is here and then gone. Ah, if only summer would arrive quickly!

And so, year after year. Time serves us just to follow the calendar, to rejoice in what has passed and frown at what the calendar hints is coming soon.

We replace one pair of shoes with another, swap shirts for coats, summer hats for woolen caps. And whether we want to admit it or not, these are our years. Time is irrevocable, and it’s time we reluctantly await because it will inevitably come.

Life is reduced to four seasons, and within those twelve months, we rewrite everything we were taught long ago: life is not a fairy tale. If trouble comes our way, well, that's life.

Now, most of you have heard that iconic phrase: you attract what you radiate. Most have heard it, of course. But most haven't paused. They haven't reflected on this iconic statement. They haven't tried to understand its meaning, its lesson, and its warning. More a warning than a lesson. I fall into this majority as well. We haven't paused to question it because we've been taught that we have nothing to radiate. For heaven's sake, life is a struggle. Life is indeed a struggle. We've long believed this, and completely unconsciously, we've been radiating more and more struggle, more and more stress, more days that we weren't even aware had passed.

How many times have we been surprised thinking it was, say, Wednesday? Then we look at our phone, and it clearly says Friday. Friday! Where did that come from? Where did Thursday go? It didn't vanish; you simply missed living it. Just like you missed experiencing spring, summer, autumn, winter. Just like you missed having coffee with friends because you had to finish work that your boss would harass you about, threatening you with dismissal, pay cuts, etc.

Just like you woke up one morning with some strange pains and instead of having breakfast, you took a painkiller and something for nausea. You even packed one or two in your bag because you know you'll need them today. And as we radiate, so we attract. So at some point, we find ourselves going from colleague to colleague, asking for a painkiller because we’ve already taken ours, and they didn’t really help.

We drag ourselves around the office, checking the clock about every three minutes. The hands don’t seem to move as we count down the remaining time until the end of this grueling workday. Just waiting for the bell to ring so we can escape home. Because at home, the obligations are waiting. A whole list of tasks. And when we finally find ourselves in our own home, we angrily recount our experiences from work, the pains we endured, that colleague from the first floor who always laughs like she’s crazy, the traffic jam, the careless shopper whose bags made us feel nauseous, the screaming and shouting of kids coming home from school.

So bitter toward the whole world, we can’t remember if we salted the pasta, if there’s enough bread, if the clothes for the next morning are ironed, or if the kids’ homework is done. Is there coffee for the morning? Is there hot water in the boiler?

Well, as if there wasn’t already enough stress, we add a little more like seasoning. And if there’s more, great. Let’s charge our batteries with stress because there’s nothing better than going to bed feeling so agitated. A little more stress before sleep, and we won’t even get any rest. We scream at the clock, whose hands seem to spin wildly while we’re at home. For nothing but wasting time.

We quickly lay our heads on the pillow and count how many hours of sleep we have left. We close our eyes and there we are—back in the day that’s just passed. The day is over, but we’re stuck in it. Not just in one, but in every single one. God knows how far back we’re stuck, replaying, copying just so we can continue the same way tomorrow. A new day, the same old rules. Even worse, a routine. Yes, that has become our everyday life. Because if there were no stress for just one day, we’d wonder if something is wrong with us. Where’s the stress? Why is nothing happening? It must be that something is not right...

And the fact is that nothing is as it should be. It all went wrong when we were taught that life is a hard struggle. Ever since then, our ship has been sailing upstream. Years go by, but the ship we set out to write our first pages is still clearly visible on the horizon. It’s as if someone threw the biggest anchor into the water, preventing the ship from moving forward. Yes, the anchor has been thrown. But it wasn’t thrown by someone. We threw it into the water and made sure it got lodged in some underwater reef. This way, our ship can only sway, battered by various life situations, over and over again.

Our failures are reminders—a treasure trove of our lived years. A heap of written stories, few of which ended the way we wanted. Do we have the strength to launch the ship into the depths? I say we do. Everyone has it.

But is that the purpose of the life given to us? Is that the deserved script after everything? No, it isn’t. It isn’t precisely because we have another choice. One we’ve overlooked for years, lost in all that madness.

Let’s lift that stuck anchor and turn our ship to