A year ago on June 21 I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Lymphoma. The day before I had gone to the doctor, had a chest x-ray, and had learned that I probably had cancer. What followed was a complete reset of my life.
I've learned a lot over the past year. For instance, I previously had a very limited awareness of just how many people are affected by cancer. I had always assumed it was a disease that mostly older people dealt with. And while it's probably true that a majority of cancer patients are older, it's amazing how many people of all ages deal with various forms of cancer. I had no idea what it was like to have real health problems. To spend extended amounts of time in the hospital, or being sick. To be a patient.
I can't say for sure but my guess is that it had been at least five years since I'd been to see a doctor when I went that day a year ago. I had pretty much convinced myself I didn't need them. I figured (naively) that my body was capable of fighting off whatever infections or viruses I might contract. And I never imagined that it was possible that I would get cancer. I don't really like the term 'get cancer'. That makes it sound like something I picked up at the corner supermarket. "I'll be back in a few honey, just gonna run down to the store and get some cancer, you need anything?" I think it's the fact that I have no clue why or how I ended up getting it that makes that sound somewhat off to me. But I don't really know how else to say it, so we can go with that.
I've had a lot of support over the past year. First and foremost I have to thank my parents. My mom quit her job to take care of me when I got sick. Isn't that amazing? I moved home with my parents and she drove me around, to doctor's appointments, to and from the hospital, to the emergency room in the middle of the night, to get blood transfusions. And let me tell you, I wasn't fun to be around. I felt horrible almost all the time, and I hadn't really learned how to deal with it well. Though I'm not really sure how one would deal with it well. I was grumpy, and short with them, and impossible to please. Nothing tasted good, nothing made me feel good. I didn't want to talk, wanted to be left alone, and was nearly unwilling to explain any of what I was going through at any given time. So thank you Mom and Dad for putting up with me. For taking care of me. And for helping me survive the past year.
Next I want to thank my girlfriend, Denise. When I was diagnosed we weren't together at the time. But she came to visit me, spent time with me at the hospital, and was a true friend, in an unassuming and honest way that cannot be overstated. Thank you for being such an amazing, loving, supportive, and true person in my life Denise, I love you.
I would also like to send a special thank you to my very close friends Tony Cappa and Anna Berkman. When I was ready to move out of my parents' house this past winter they took me into their home and let me stay with them all spring. It was an incredibly comfortable and supportive environment to be in. And it was just what I needed to make the transition back to my life. I am forever indebted to you both. You are absolutely the best of the best and I love you until the end of time.
There is a long list of people who have visited me in the hospital and at home, people who have given me incredible, generous gifts, both material and otherwise. To all of the individuals who have given in so many ways to me over the past year, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I cannot possibly express how significant you were to me, and to my survival. Because it was, and is, a matter of survival. I love all of you. Friends, family, co-workers. People who I may not even have met in person. I have been blessed with the opportunity to truly understand what it feels like to need the support of others, and you have given your support to me. You are the real reason I am here and thriving today. You gave me all the reasons I needed and more to keep going when I wasn't sure I could any longer. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I recently had the final of four high dose shots that are a part of the maintenance chemotherapy regimen I'm on. So now I will return back to the low dose oral medication that I was taking all spring. It has been a challenging past couple of months for me. The hardest part of going through this chemo that I've been getting has been trying to function normally while I'm doing it. It's been a challenge for me to think clearly and focus, which has been tough at work. It's been hard to do much physical activity, which has contributed a bit I think to my less-than-ideal overall mood. Sickness and depression seem to go hand in hand, is really the point. Let's just say I'm glad this part is over.
It's definitely a milestone. I've completed a year of treatment. I've lived another year of life, though much of it is pretty hazy to me now. I'm definitely still dealing with chemo, and dealing with the reality of going to the doctor every week and not feeling great at times. But it will be easier now, and I will feel much more normal for a while. And thus far all the tests and scans they've done have revealed no cancer. I don't really know if they use the term remission with lymphoma, but things are definitely going in the right direction. I think the five year mark is the one that you try to shoot for; meaning that once you've survived five years you're determined to have Survived Cancer. But honestly I just want to get through the next year or so and hopefully be done with the treatment part.
I do find it slightly offensive that they call it chemo 'therapy'. Therapy my eye. My bad one. But hey, it's worked for me. And for all those out there who have the cure for cancer in a diet or an herb or a plant from the rainforest, at least take comfort from the fact that chemotherapy can do what it's intended to do. That's not to say that the diet or herb can't or won't help. Every situation is different. Every cancer is different. Just you know, keep it in perspective. And remember that when it comes to survival of any kind there has to be an element of luck - or whatever you prefer to call it.
Which brings me to my final thought for now. A lot is made of the ways in which surviving a near-death experience can change ones life. Specifically I want to share with you this: Life is a gift. Or in other words, life is an opportunity. An opportunity to experience things, to do things, to feel things. Whatever you choose to do, embrace that opportunity. Take advantage of it. Don't assume that life will be a certain way for you, or even that it will be at all. Instead embrace the opportunity to live your life. Be free to experience that life. Enjoy it. And don't forget to give some love to those around you.
Love,
Chris
