Four years ago… January 25, 2013. I was in the first major surgery of my life. Fighting a foe that no one wants to have to fight, but sadly many do end up battling. It is a nasty, ugly, unfeeling, uncaring foe that is relentless and hateful. One that doesn’t think twice about taking a life. The beast known as Cancer. At that time, my particular version of this beast was of the rarer variety (but growing), Esophageal Cancer.
What did that mean for myself and my family and friends? Let’s make a list (be aware, some of these may seem a bit small or maybe even petty to some, but they were and are things I thought about)...
- 12+ hours in surgery
- 19 days in the hospital – 16 of which were in ICU
- One day from hell 3 days after surgery
- 3 months off work
- Six weeks of daily post-operative radiation treatments
- Weekly chemotherapy sessions every Monday for six weeks, also post-op
- Massive loss of strength, stamina and physical stature
- At its maximum effect... a weight loss of 215 pounds
- Blood clots throughout the neck and right shoulder, including the Jugular vein, caused by the chemo port likely being placed too deeply into the chest
- Too much prescribed blood thinners used when the clots were found that caused the blood work to go insane and almost caused another hospitalization and plasma transfusion
- Numerous visits to a Coumadin Clinic (before work) to help manage the blood thinners and blood work after the clots were taken care of with the blood thinners
- Having to pull around those little carts that hold the green oxygen tanks outside of home
- Weeks of physical therapy (which I was horrible at following through with)
- Weeks of breathing therapy (which I was even worse at following through with)
- Making a lifestyle change when it comes to what eaten, how much, and how often (this change is still ongoing, even after four years)
- Being unable to drive
- Doctor’s appointments after doctor’s appointments after doctor’s appointments… And so on and so on and so on… ad infinitum
- Depression
- Self-doubt
- Being totally insensitive to others and their feelings
- Survivor’s guilt (this is still an issue and sometimes makes me hesitate when writing)
And the list could go on, but you get an idea. As you can see, that entire list was made up of things that are negatives. How about a list of positives?
- I was quite obese when this started… Upwards of 400 pounds. My weight is much better and healthier now
- High blood pressure is gone
- No more Sleep Apnea
- Blood work is well within the normal range for the most part
- I got more time with my family and friends
- I got to meet and hold and play with all my grandchildren
- Had been only six years into my marriage, got more time with my loving and beautiful wife
- Started noticing things I had previously taken for granted… the beauty of a tree, a sunrise or sunset, the sound of a grade school playground at recess, the smiles and laughter of my loved ones, how a baby smells after a bath, gaining an entirely new perspective of what it means when friends and family gather for any reason, how a kiss feels, being unafraid to shed a tear or two…
- I got to see how strong my family and friends are and how much their support means and how much I depended on it (even if I didn’t admit it at the time)
- Realized how strong *I* am
- Discovered my superpower – Kicking Cancer’s ass
In short, I survived. Against the odds based on the staging of my cancer (stage 3) and the medically listed survival rates and all. God has something in mind for me. What it is, I have no idea. I’ll find out as time goes on. They say that he will never place an obstacle in our path that we cannot overcome. This helps to show just how strong you really are and can be. You’ll never know just how strong you are until being strong is your only choice. Does being strong mean you will always win? No… but yes. If you are strong to the end and don’t give up… If you go down but go down swinging, that is a win in my book. That is true for your entire life, not just in the face of sickness or disease. Fight with all you have for as long as you can and you are a winner to me.
I am aware that most of those last few sentences sound like a motivational poster or bumper stickers or something, but they are true to me. Some of the major things I’ve learned over the last four years.
Lastly… Love to you all. Live long and prosper.
I'm crying already!! I can do relate to many of the things you listed... Survivors guilt is a huge one. I had an uncle who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer about a month before I was diagnosed with my EC. About a month after my diagnosis, his wife, my aunt, was diagnosed with lung cancer... My uncle and I are doing quite well under the circumstances... My aunt died in October... It's hard to be happy. And the weight loss! I too was a very large person and I've lost nearly 150 pounds. It SUCKS that I'm "healthier" today because of cancer. It makes me angry!! So much so I've said I want the old fat Brenda back! And the eating habits... I think I'll NEVER get used to them! I've told people it's not fair. EVERY Dr I've seen have all asked the same questions and they have all said the same thing, "There is no reason you have this cancer... And yet you do." I tell my friends it's like food was my drug of choice and I have had to quit, cold turkey, while everyone around me gets to continue doing MY DRUG in front of me... I get angry about THAT, too... And, as you can tell, feel sorry for myself!
ReplyDeleteSorry, I'm rambling...
Hi Brenda. Sorry that my blog brought tears... hopefully in the long run they helped. And as to you thinking you were rambling, so what? Sometimes we need to do that too. Emotions during these time some out In all sorts of odd ways and places. Especially with the added layers because of covid. At this point I wouldn't be surprised if is came out of my ear in an ear wax sculpture. :)
ReplyDeleteI understand about family members with cancer. Lost my father to colon cancer that mets to his liver. He was 51 when he died in 1986. I was 22. My mother had cancer 5 times between the late 60s and 2017 when we lost her. Both grandmothers, a few uncles and aunts... it is all over my family. So I have the guilt on that side plus feeling guilty on the FB pages reading all those posts about lost loved ones. What turns my thinking is this... maybe my surviving and talking about it might give some hope in a dark time for someone. See, to me, even if someone ends up losing the fight, the fight is the thing. If you can fight to the end you're a winner to me. As difficult as that may be to see at the time. There are many ways to fight too... so honestly, everyone with cancer is a fighter and I am proud of each and every one...
Thank you for the input. Feel free to reach out to me again. :)
Brian