I've said it before and I'll say it again: cancer can be as hard, if not harder, on the loved ones than the patients. Our family is very close - I don't have any siblings and my husband and I don't have children. Our family unit is small. After 2.5 years, my husband and I have a process. He goes with me to all of my scan result appointments. As soon as Super Doc gives us the results, Neal steps out and texts or calls my parents with the updates. I always want to be with them if we have to give them bad news. My parents live 4 hours away; otherwise, I think they'd crowd into the exam room with us.
Although we had to give them bad news a couple of weeks ago, we actually had something in our favor. A lifelong friend of mine was visiting with them on the way to take her daughter to tour a college. She was able to keep my parents somewhat balanced this time. I'd been preparing them for the results - figured this was coming. But no one wants to have to call their parents and tell them the cancer is back. Stupid cancer.
Most days, the cancer is buried somewhere in my thoughts, my work, my hobbies - not at the surface. But there are days when it hits me right between the eyes. Cancer. How the hell did I get here? Is this really my life?
Wondering if anyone else has experienced this.
I'm in the middle of my quarterly scan appointments. While I was waiting for my blood draw yesterday, I noticed a couple that was apparently new to the oncology clinic. The wife is the patient and, when she was called into the lab, her husband got up to walk with her and she told him she was fine, just going for a blood draw. I looked at his face and saw fear and I just wanted to give him a hug. This is the part I hate the most - when we look into our loved ones' eyes and see their fear. I just want to fix everything and I can't; we have so little control over this part of our lives. I have no idea why she was there or what her diagnosis is, but I definitely said a prayer for them last night.
Today, I happily paint two of my toes red, to celebrate two years of being a survivor. Some days I ask myself it has really only been 2 years because it feels like I got the diagnosis so long ago. Lots of scans and needles and chemo and radiation and....I'm still here!
I woke up this morning, very cheerful, almost like I was celebrating a birthday. I realize that EVERY SINGLE DAY is a gift, whether we have lung cancer or not, but that cancer seems to make each day that much more important. While I was thinking about everything today, I was overcome with emotion. I know that I am blessed to have as much time as I've had. I think about the friends I've made in this "club" that are no longer here. For those friends, and for the rest of us, we continue to choose life.