Not to say that I was ever a hobbit, mind you. I’m not exactly tall, but I’m certainly not as stubby as a hobbit. My feet are kind of big, though, which is a little odd considering that I’m of average height, but they aren’t hairy. Well, I do have a stray hair or two on my toes, but I take care of that! Doesn’t everyone have a few hairs on their toes? So, anyway, I’m definitely not a hobbit. I’ve never been a hobbit. I’m never going to be a hobbit. Hobbits aren’t real.
I know this for a fact because I just got done reading The Hobbit with my son. We homeschool, mostly so I won’t have to help him make stupid dioramas, but also so I have yet another thing I do that indicates how weird I am. My daughter, who is grown, in college, and was not homeschooled (much to her delight) has been urging me to read it forever. She’s a bit of a Tolkien junkie. I would suggest you only get her on the topic of Peter Jackson’s movie adaptation of this book if you have a few hours to kill and a high capacity for seething rage.
About a month or so back, my son had read all of the books assigned by our curriculum and we were finished with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. We couldn’t decide on what book to read next, so I finally caved to pressure and we started reading The Hobbit. Of course, we loved it from the very first words, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.” There were a few decent sized gaps while reading it since we were in the middle of moving, but we were always happy to return to it. I was, especially. I found myself getting choked up reading the last chapter, not just from the beautiful words but also from realizing that it was almost over. I get that way with books sometimes.
For those of you that don’t know the story, I won’t spoil it. All you need to know is that Bilbo is the hobbit. He’s been through a fucking ordeal and a half and not by his own choosing. It’s sorta forced upon him. He’s sometimes accompanied by a wizard named Gandalf whose kind of like your parents in that he knows when to let Bilbo fall on his face and when to save his ass. Just like life, nothing on Bilbo’s adventure goes the way it was planned. It’s arduous and harrowing, sometimes tedious and infuriating, but Bilbo makes it out in the end. Now he’s different and Gandalf knows that.

Gandalf knows his shit.
So, I’m reading this to my son and my voice is cracking and I’ve got a few tears about to fall. I was completely relating to Bilbo. Bilbo and I are like twins, except for the fact that I’m real and he’s not and I have a tumor and he fought Goblins and Wargs. Other than that, though, the similarities are eerie. I went through a fucking ordeal that was not of my choosing. I fought to walk independently again after my surgery. I dealt with treatments that sometimes did nothing more than make things worse. I watched those around me go through emotional pains and struggles. I doubted myself and everyone else more times than I can count.
The great thing about The Hobbit is that while Gandalf acknowledges Bilbo has been forever changed by the voyage he’s been on and rose to the occasion rather splendidly on more than one occasion, he is never lauded as the hero. And, like Bilbo, I am not a hero. I’m not more brave than you because I woke up one day with a lump on my hip. I’m not courageous because I did what doctors recommended to kill it. I’m just a person that made a choice that worked best for her. Like Bilbo, I just did what I felt I had to do.
The hero narrative woven into the tale of serious illness tells of a person who fights against all odds, never quitting, always willing to go to battle no matter the outcome. The real story of my fight is that it wasn’t always a fight. Some choices were made from rational dissection of information, some from complete apathy, but mostly it was just a slow plodding along, doing what I was told in hopes that some day it would all be over. On many of those days I understood how one could decide that refusal of treatment was the best for them. Had my tumor not died when it did, I had well prepared myself to opt out of any other treatments, which is easy for me to say considering that I never really had to make that decision.
If you’ve been sick and you’ve been through hell or you know someone who has and the word hero seems appropriate for you, have at it. There is no rulebook for sickness. Just don’t bestow that label upon me. I had my “journey” that I never asked to go on. Luckily for me, it had a decent ending and that may have been because of luck. Or, maybe it was the oral chemo. Who knows? That’s just how the sick cookie crumbles. Sometimes it all works out in the end no matter what you do and sometimes you do everything right and it all goes to shit anyway.
I’m not the same hobbit I was. This tumor made me a different person, in some ways a better one. I’m wiser in some areas and more naive than ever before in others. There are days when I have no idea who I am at all. Sometimes that’s a pill I find hard to swallow. And, while there are moments I’m furious that it ever happened to me, for the most part I’m very thankful for it. Serious illness came and found me, shook my life up, asked me to do things I never thought I could, and profoundly changed me in the process. I’m know I’m not the same person I was and I don’t know what kind of person this tumor will make me in the end, but one thing I can be sure of is that it definitely didn’t turn me into a hero.
Featured image courtesy of Pixabay.
I love the analogy between your journey and Bilbo’s. (I also am a Tolkien fan. I liked both the movies and the books.) Hero is that kind of word that other people apply to you, but one never really applies to oneself. Adversity does bring about change, whether we go into it looking for trouble, or we accept it and build a new world around ourselves as a result. I believe it isn’t that you and Bilbo found yourselves with trouble at your feet (or hip) but that you chose to attack it with the best of yourselves. I won’t call you a hero though. I’ll just say, I admire anyone who punches adversity in the mouth and says–yep, today, no matter what happens tomorrow, I fight.
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Thank you. I’ve got that Irish stubborn will that makes me kind of scrappy when I’m pushed into a corner. It just sort of happens. Throughout these past few years I’ve been able to understand that you can’t always be your best and sometimes you just don’t want to fight anymore and that’s okay too. In the beginning I was all, I’m going to fight like hell or die trying. Now, I see it more as, I’m going to do what will make my days better not necessarily longer. Thanks for reading.
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I really have to thank you for writing this post. You’ve said what I think I’ve wanted to tell so many people. Going through so many challenges sometimes makes the one who is challenged come off as the hero because the world only sees cancer fought and rare diseases harnessed and physical limitations overcome from movies or tv specials or celebrities’ “personal stories.” They don’t see what we see. It’s not an act of bravery. It’s one of existence. What do I need to do today not to get to tomorrow. What can I do today to be able live my life today. I don’t remember who said it or where I first heard it but it love this: Sometimes you get the good breaks. Sometimes you get the bad breaks. Sometimes you live long enough that they even out.
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Thank you for reading it. It has taken me a long time to get the words together on the matter and I still don’t know if I said it the way I wanted to. It bothers me when people refer to me as a hero and sometimes I feel like I’m an ungrateful heel for feeling that way. The label is too much pressure, though, and it doesn’t paint an accurate picture of what people who are seriously ill go through.
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This was a hilarious take on that classic read. I was laughing as I read. Bilbo will eventually take that ring to Mordor.
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Very cool and moving interweaving of your own “journey” and the Hobbit’s… I believe you actually have a book here, yourself. Yes. If you’re not up to writing it from scratch, why not string a whole bunch of your marvelous blog posts together, see how it shakes out? Your sardonic humour is enthralling as is your story of beating the odds (somehow)! Think about it?
BTW I love the idea that you’re incorporating these kids’ classics into your son’s reading regimen. Fantastic!
BTW #2 – I always felt the wizard (I forget his name) in Harry Potter was a total ripoff of Tolkien’s Gandalf. Mind you, maybe all wizards are the same. Old white guys with pointy hats and flowing robes. Has there ever been a black wizard? a native Indian wizard? a *female* wizard? I wanna see a minority wizard!!
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It’s definitely a consideration, thanks, and me too.
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I agree with Ellie, this should be a book that you write of your journey, an adventure like Bilbo went on.
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Christine what a great way to compare your own story with that of Bilbo. Ive not read The Hobbit but may need to!!!
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My daughter is right. It’s an amazing book.
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Right… another on my TBR pile!
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Yes the struggles you have had may well be compared to those of a character such as Bilbo. I love The Hobbit and it is one of my all time favourite books. The mark of a great author is that readers are able to identify with key characters. Our own lives and challenges become ‘dynamic equivalents’. It is moving to read in your post of how powerful this was for you.
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Thank you for reading. I am now a Tolkien fan. This book will live on as one of my absolute favorites.
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I really love The Hobbit and read it as an adult, too. But wow, it’s your last paragraph that got me – powerful stuff.
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Thank you.
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“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
Ok, I’m also a Tolkein fan; books and films; if not too literal about how the books translate in terms of accuracy. Rage avoidance engaged.
Lovely analogy with your own personal journey. I have so much admiration for people struggling with chronic diseases. So many people wander about not realising how life changing it can be until something drops on them from a great height. I have, sadly, known many people (friends and family) that have fought various cancers; some have lost, some have not. Like you none would call themselves heroes and nearly all those surviving have very different life outlooks. They are, perhaps, far more mindful of being alive, and are more empathic. I think you summed things up wonderfully (if that’s the right word on this subject) in the final paragraph too
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Gandalf knows his shit. Gotta love him. Thanks for reading.
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Gosh I love this Christine. It is very beautifully written and despite what you say, I am still filled with admiration for you. And as Angela says, I love the analogy between you and the Hobbit. Plus you’ve inspired me to finally read it. I never have, which is kind of discussing as I’m from the Shire that JRR Tolkien based his books on (Oxfordshire). Much love xx
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Thank you.
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