I continue to be amazed at how many lives are touched by cancer. There is hardly a day goes by that I don’t learn of someone new who is going through this battle. Pretty scary when you think about it. I count myself as one of the lucky ones since I’m doing well. My mammogram was good in September, and my tumor markers were below "normal" in November. Barring any unforeseen complications or issues, I don’t see the doctor again until March. I didn’t even have any cavities at my last dental visit! This all makes me happy for the here and now of my life.
I have recently begun praying for a young woman who was just diagnosed with breast cancer that has metasticized to a couple of places in her body. She has an eight-month old baby, and she tells in her story on CaringBridge of how she has plans of being around to raise her baby, so she’s fighting ultra hard to beat this thing. Although my babies are nearly 22 and 25, I know how she feels about wanting to be there for your children. I remember when my girls were very young, and I would pray that God would protect me and keep me safe and well so that I could raise them and so that they would know me. That may seem a bit selfish on my part, but I really do enjoy my girls. I love them more than life itself, and I am so proud of the wonderful, talented young women they have become. But regardless of how grown up or independent they may be now, I still think they need their mama around for a while.
Cancer doesn’t care who it touches, and I learned last night of a toddler from Wynne who was just diagnosed with leukemia on Monday and began chemotherapy on Tuesday. I have never dealt with this disease from a parent’s standpoint, but I can’t imagine watching my child go through treatment. It ought not be that way.
My heart is also hurting right now for a fellow breast cancer patient who was diagnosed just ahead of me last year. She also has esophageal cancer. We compared notes at first, and both of us did pretty well with treatment. But as I finished my treatments, new spots were discovered in her body of where the esophageal cancer had spread. She’s been such a fighter, but the doctor told her just this week that she probably has only 6-8 months to live. What do you say to someone in that situation? I’ve tried to think about it, and I honestly don’t know what I would want people to say to me.
Another friend who lives in South Arkansas just learned that her husband has cancer, pretty much all over his body. The news wasn’t good, and he’s in quite a bit of pain right now. I think all of those who know this family are hurting for them, too.
In spite of all of this "bad" happening all around me, it snowed about three inches of lovely, pristine whiteness on everything this morning. It was so exciting to see the beauty of the snow and enjoy how clean it made things appear. It’s funny how there can be dirty, nastiness in life, and yet something like snow can make it appear a bit better. The pain and despair of cancer is still there, and little can change that. But there CAN be hope for each one of us, particularly during this season of hope.
I want to be and long to be around for my girls and for Barry for a long time to come. And I must qualify what I have written today with the fact that my news has been good recently, so I am upbeat in how I feel about life. I don’t know what I would be writing if my news had been bad. It’s easy for circumstances to color our attitudes and outlooks.
In the here and now, and in spite of frequent hot flashes from my Tamoxifen, I am keeping myself busy most evenings making Christmas goodies, decorating and enjoying the Christmas tree. I am taking it one day at a time, and I’m enjoying feeling good. It’s a far cry from where I was this time last year.
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