Blessings

You have to look for your blessings where you can ... and I know you guys will think I am weird, but this lung cancer made it possible for me to retire. I can't even tell you how wonderful it is not to have to go to work any longer. I have had to work one or two jobs since I turned 20. I am loving every second of not having to do that any longer!

Another HUGE blessing is that the treatment I am on (clinical trial for immunotherapy drug) is wonderful. Here I am ... Stage IV non-small-cell lung cancer patient ... nearly 1-1/2 years after diagnosis ... still doing fantastic!!! The tumors are still there, but they are just sitting in the same spot as they were when we discovered them. They haven't grown or multiplied or spread. Hallelujah and Praise God!

The immunotherapy is the best thing since sliced bread. It doesn't make you sick or tired and before I started getting it I was sick and tired of being sick and tired!! The hardest part of getting it is spending a long half day at the hospital getting an infusion every two weeks. Lucky me and lucky cancer patients everywhere ... the company is or will soon be seeking FDA approval. From what I know, none of the patients who are participating at the clinic where I go has had terribly adverse side effects and I think everyone is doing quite well in the fight against their cancer.

I am so glad that I found UT Southwestern. Some people told me that they felt like it was a huge and cold institution that didn't care about patients except as numbers in science experiments. Well, that's far from true. The girls behind the desk know you, the aides who take you from place to place know you, the nurses, physician's assistants, researchers, and doctors all know you as a person. I always feel like I am seeing friends when I go. Which is a good thing since treatments occur every two weeks.

My life is so full. Every single day is packed with things that I love to do. In the past, my days were full, but they were full of work-type activities. I worked at my 8-5 job and then I came home and took care of SchoolGrants, the business that God blessed me with since 1999. I let it go a couple of years ago and that was quite a liberating feeling! It still is. It was my passion for a long, long time but I burned myself completely out.

Once you receive a cancer diagnosis, I don't think the fact that you have cancer (or had cancer if you are fortunate enough to beat it) ever leaves your mind. I never go through a day that I do not remember quite well that I have cancer. It impacts my thought processes. On the other hand, some days I can't believe the diagnosis is correct. How can I be so sick when I'm so healthy??!!!

Which brings to mind more praises! Week after week, month after month, my blood tests come back perfect. We do thorough blood analyses before every single treatment and every time, my tests are perfect. My doctor is amazed. He said that less than 1% of cancer patients are as fortunate. It isn't just my blood tests that come back perfect, so do my blood pressure, oxygen, and temperature readings! How can I not call myself lucky? LUCKY!! or, more appropriately, BLESSED. Totally.

Here's another way I am blessed. Insurance. Oh my gosh. Fighting cancer is expensive. Ridiculously so. What do people who don't have insurance do? I really don't know. I'm glad I don't have to find out.

I have been on some cancer sites lately that are sort of like support groups or something. I have never felt the need for a support group but I like to go to these online groups and offer support to those just learning they have cancer. I want them to know that a horrible diagnosis that scares the living daylights out of you may truly not be the end of the world at all.

Those people who get the diagnosis and decide right away that they'll just go with palliative care distress me. No one thought I had a lot of time left but I was determined to make the best of what time I did have. My life has slowly evolved to something that it wasn't when I was diagnosed. For instance, I do not participate in all of the same events, like agility training and competing, that I was consumed with prior to learning I was battling lung cancer. But my life is full. Every single minute of it! I am as happy as can be. Each day ends with me thinking that I needed more hours to get everything done that I wanted to get done that day. Amazing.

Those who just give up are missing out on so much. None of us have tomorrow promised to us, so we should all appreciate each and every hour that we are given. I just wish that those who choose not to fight their cancer would reconsider. At least I wish they would try to get into a test study so that the doctors can research the effects of more treatments. It might or might not help them but it surely might help someone else down the road. I've never been a hand-wringer. I don't guess I understand  those who are.

Well, I planned to post a lot of pictures here and discuss some of my recent activities, but I'm really beat. Today was treatment day and it was a long day. I'll come back before too long and post some lovely pictures I've had the opportunity to capture over the last few weeks and months.

Until then, take care and thank God for another day!

I'll leave you with two of my most favorite blessings:

My lovely Cotton. She's doing some birdwatching here. I'll be posting pictures from our bird watching in the near future.

Barney. My heart and soul. 

Today is World Cancer Day

Did you see the Super Bowl Commercial that Chevrolet ran? They will donate $1 to the American Cancer Society for every person who goes purple on Facebook or Twitter today. Do it, please!!! It will only take a moment of your time and your dollar combined with those of thousands of others can really make a difference. http://www.chevrolet.com/purple-roads-world-cancer-day.html

The Chevy commercial really touched me. This woman is facing a cancer diagnosis ... and her husband is sharing in the pain. There are lots of diagnoses that would be heartbreaking to receive. The one I identify with is cancer. I think I will never forget the moment I learned I had lung cancer.

I was fairly certain by that point that I had cancer, though no one but me had ever uttered such a word in connection with the tests I was having. I was so hopeful that it would be nearly any kind of cancer but lung cancer. My dad died of lung cancer only six months of being diagnosed, despite a valiant effort to fight it. The stats for surviving lung cancer are just not good.

Of course, anyone who knows me or who follows this blog knows I didn't get my wish granted. I not only had lung cancer, I had Stage IV lung cancer that was inoperable. Radiation also wasn't an option. Chemotherapy was the only hope I was given. And the doctor wasn't all that confident it would prolong my life appreciably.

How do you describe the emotions you go through when you learn that your life may be nearly over? Just when life was kind of coming together. I was so involved. I had so many more friends and activities to pursue than I had for most of my adult life. I was having fun ... no ... F-U-N!!! Literally, the time of my life!

Cancer wasn't in the plans. At all. I had quit smoking five or six years previously. I was physically active. I ate decent. Cancer was for someone else, not me.

Things move quickly after you're diagnosed with cancer. You face it bravely, but you're still scared. And once you get that diagnosis, the fact that you have cancer sort of defines who you are from then on. Or, that's the case with me. It never leaves the forefront of my mind that I have cancer. I don't mean to say that it especially limits what I do because I try hard to make sure that isn't the case, but I still never really forget that I am in the fight of my life against a mighty foe. And I never forget that God is Good and He is Powerful. And by His grace, I'm still here and I still feel good and I am still able to do a whole lot of what I was able to do prior to that terrible day that I learned I had lung cancer.

When I watch the commercial, I imagine that the woman has learned recently that she has cancer. Maybe they are on their way to her first treatment or to tell her parents or kids that she's received a deadly diagnosis. So many difficult moments accompany the news that you have become a cancer statistic. You have to figure out the new road you're going to walk whether you want to or not ... and you wonder just exactly what it is going to entail. Talk about fear of the unknown!!

Is it going to hurt? Will I be deathly ill for my remaining days on this earth? What's going to happen to my family, to my dogs? Will my friends disappear? Will people be too uncomfortable to be around me? Will I be too uncomfortable to be around them? Will I lose my hair? Will I become a skeleton? What's it going to be like to face a deadly opponent? What does chemo feel like?

Here are some answers to those questions:

1. Lung cancer doesn't hurt. That's a problem with it. You have no clue you have it until it is so far gone that your chances of survival are greatly diminished.
2. Some of your friends do fall by the wayside, but others are right there for you every step of the way. You mourn the ones you "lost" and celebrate the ones who are strong enough and care enough to stick around.
3. I was lucky! My hair got thinner, but I didn't lose it. I purchased a wig and hats and all of the rest but by God's grace, I didn't have to use them. I'm really happy I didn't lose my hair - that would have been difficult. But it surely wouldn't have been the end of the world. I see some women who wear their bald heads with such pride ... my heart just swells with love when I see it.
4. I surely didn't become a skeleton. It never has seemed fair that I can go through chemo treatment after chemo treatment and still be bigger than ever before. But, I'd rather be a little chubby than way too thin. I don't look sick and I don't feel sick. 
5. Chemo doesn't hurt or burn or anything. It is boring ... the first treatments I got took 3-4 hours to administer. The ones I get now drip for an hour. Ho-hum. The after-effects can be awful though. I can't describe the fatigue or the nausea that accompanied my first chemo treatments. I think you have to experience them to understand them. I've tried to face this battle with good humor, but I have to say that I was starting to get quite depressed when I was on the first two courses of treatment. You would have chemo, be sick-sick-sick, and finally start to feel better just about the same time as it was time to go again for another treatment.

Every single day when I wake up, I praise God that I'm still here! I still feel good. I can still enjoy the activities I did before I was diagnosed with cancer.

Below is a video that was shot yesterday of my Sheltie, Barney, and I trying our luck at a NADAC Chances run. We did not earn a qualifying score (LOL, to say the least!!!), but we WERE successful! We were outside together with friends and we had a ton of fun. A far cry from the video above where the woman is looking out the window with so many fears and so much sadness.

I am fully aware that any day my cancer may take off and kill me quickly. I think that knowledge makes me enjoy each and every day far more than I would if my body hadn't been invaded by "evil cells." I try hard not to sweat the small stuff ... or even the big stuff. 

On the other hand, I tend NOT to make plans for too far into the future. There's a Gaither concert over the Memorial Day weekend that I would love to attend in Tennessee but I have been hesitant to get tickets ... it is a lot of money to spend if it turns out I am no longer able to make a trip like that. 

Here's the thing, though. Tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Car wrecks, heart attacks, the flu ... none of us know what tomorrow holds for us. A cancer diagnosis might make that fact a little more real, but ALL of us should live life as if tomorrow may not come. Be happy. Be strong. Live!