I began this blog in March of 2013 as a means to chronicle my
cancer journey. It was a longer, harder journey than I could have ever imagined
and in the last months I have hoped that I would continue my blog with insights
about life, hope, faith and living. Two
weeks ago, I reached a huge milestone—one that hopefully will mark the END of
this two and a half year “season”. On July 2, I had minor surgery to remove my
port—the device imbedded under my skin on my chest in which all my blood work
was taken and all my chemotherapy drugs were infused. At my last oncology
visit, my doctor said, “Ports are for people who need more chemotherapy and you
DON’T!” He said it with such joy and conviction and I left that day feeling
like I could really close this chapter. That doesn’t mean that not a day goes
by that I don’t wonder if it could come back, if it has spread, if I will fight
and journey again. But I don’t let it consume me—it is there, always, but I
choose to take each day for what it is—a true gift—and I live with purpose and
intention and joy (as I have said so many times in my blog posts).
Today as I write I feel strong and energetic and alive. I am
running, hiking, spinning, and training for a triathlon in October and a half
marathon in November. But my heart is sad and heavy. My mind and my spirit are
grieving. In the last few months, a few friends who were diagnosed after I was,
have passed away. These deaths have hit me hard. One friend died in April after
18 months with brain cancer. She leaves behind two beautiful sons—one who is
Noah’s good friend and soccer teammate. Although she lived a great life and
imparted so much wisdom and love to her boys, she still left this earth way too
early. Two weeks ago, an amazing man in our Young Life community passed away
from liver cancer. He was our age, and left behind his wife and two sons, who
are Noah and Micah’s age. His servant heart, his love for God, and his faith
were unwavering until his last moment. Though I was not good friends with him,
I followed his journey and felt empathy for his family. He also left this world
way too early.
Last week my sweet, humble, and gentle friend made the decision
to discontinue the chemotherapy and radiation that she has endured for the past
20 months. She was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer about four months after
me. Her journey has been much rougher than mine. Her treatments have left her
weak and tired and her cancer spread to many places in her body. She is
valiant, courageous, beautiful and strong. Making this decision for quality of
life for her remaining time is a hugely bold choice for her and her family. It
is a choice made with love, faith, peace, and assurance. And yet it breaks my
heart. I am sad, I am weak, I feel like I have been sucker punched in the gut.
I can’t sleep. I pray for her and her family and I read scripture to give me
hope and faith to endure this grief.
I am writing this blog entry with anger, with questions, with
confusion, with doubt, and yet also with joy and assurance. My anger toward the
insidious cancer compels me to fight—with the life I still have—for more education,
more awareness, more money, and more understanding to find that damn cure for
this disease. My questions, confusion and doubt are normal—for anyone who
wonders “why?” We have to feel this, we have to question, we have to shout out,
we have to grieve, we have to process. We don’t know the answers to why some
people get cancer and some don’t, why some people make it through and some don’t,
why some people get it and it comes back. We won’t know. But I also write with
joy and assurance. The joy that life is lovely and that eternal life is much
lovelier. The assurance that I have a Savior who has chosen me, and my friends,
and who promises a life with no pain or sorrow after this earthly life.
But before I end, I want to make an emphatic point. It is
about a phrase that I hear often in the news, the obituaries, and benign
comments people make when referring to cancer. I don’t want to get caught up in
semantics and I don’t want anyone to feel bad if he/she has used this phrase. I
simply want to educate.
Here is the term I hear: “So and so LOST their
courageous battle with cancer.”
Friends,
every person I know who has taken the journey with cancer NEVER loses. Cancer
is an evil disease, and it spreads and it takes over, but my fellow cancer
survivors and sojourners never lose to it. We live and we fight with everything
we have. We fight with our attitude and our prayers and our choices and our
physical strength (when we have it). If you have ever been in an infusion
center at a cancer hospital, you would never again use the word “lose”. You see
hope, laughter, joy, resilience, patience and peace. You see it in the nurses,
caregivers, doctors, and patients. You see bravery, strength, valor, compassion—all
while people are sitting in chairs with chemo drugs dripping into their bodies
for hours at a time. Every time I left the infusion center, I may have been
physically weak, but I was stronger with my attitude, my faith, and my hope.
My friends with cancer are warriors. We never lose the battle.
We fight and we win. In life, in death, in hope, in eternity—we WIN.
Stuart Scott, the sportscaster who died of cancer at 49
earlier this year, said it best:
"When you die, it does not mean that you lose to cancer.
You beat cancer by how you live, why you live, and in the manner in which you
live."
Amen Stuart—fighter, warrior, winner!
3 comments:
Well said, ending with my favorite quote! Congratulations on finishing your treatments! I am sorry for your losses, and empathize with your feelings. As a 17 year survivor, I still can not understand why I feel sadness, anger, grief, helplessness when others I know succumb to this awful disease. All I can do is to continue to fight with prayer, support and my work with the American Cancer Society in hopes of finding a cure. Keep moving forward, keep up your faith and God bless you.
Joy
Your post is very informative. Your experience journey is very great & strong. It will help someone who wants to get rid of this. I had also done some research on this & comes to the conclusion that Dr. Sandeep Nayak is the best doctor for Cancer Treatment in Bangalore
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