LIVING IN CANCER WORLD

LIVING IN CANCER WORLD.  IT'S LIKE RACING IN THE RAIN

The last 2 months have been absolutely hellish.  Getting used to this new cancer world which we've found ourselves in has been nothing short of an uphill battle.  It feels like someone plucked out of our every day lives and stuck us into this bizarro world that makes no sense.  Tom's cancer diagnosis is the last thing I think of as I drift off to sleep and it's the first thing I think of every time I open my eyes.  Even a simple trip to the potty at 2:00 am means I'll be awake for at least of couple of hours playing out every scenario of what can go wrong in my mind.  I don't remember what peacefulness or security feels like anymore.  It's been completely stripped away.

The last 2 weeks have been even more hellish than normal. Tom underwent a series of tests and scans over the course of many different days.  By the end of last week, he was done!  And today in particular was going to be a rough day.  We were waiting to hear the test results as well as find out which treatment plan Tommy would be chosen for.  He's agreed to a clinical trial option, however the drug company decides which treatment he'll be receiving.  We were hoping he would receive a new intravenous drug that's showing very good results. This was our preference over the "standard" oral treatments that most patients receive but again, it wasn't up to us to decide.

I went out for a 16 mile run early this morning. I left the house before daybreak and had the chance to see the beautiful sunrise.  There was a thick fog that hung over the soy fields and it made everything look hauntingly beautiful.  I had to stop and take a picture or two.  And then for the first time in over 2 months, I felt a sense of peace and serenity come over me.  I told myself that I tend to build things up in my head to be bigger and worse than they usually turn out to be.  I believed in my heart that things were going to be okay.  And even if the results weren't 100% okay, they probably won't be as bad as I imagine.

I remember a triathlon coach telling me that there's no such thing as a perfect race day.  "There are going to be times where you have to race in the rain", he said.  You can't control mother nature and you can't control what anyone else does on the course.  The only thing you can do is control your own actions and prepare yourself to race in un-perfect conditions.  Adjust, adapt and learn how to be comfortable racing in the rain.

And so that's where Tommy and I are at.  We're going to race the best that we can in the rain.  The scans showed that the tumor in the lung did get a bit larger.  They also saw a small lesion on the skull bone.  There's no evidence of any new tumors on the brain or anywhere else. And as far as the clinical trial goes, Tommy was selected for the new intravenous treatment which we're very, very happy about.  We were hoping he would get that treatment.

So now it's time to prepare, adapt and adjust. We plan on becoming the best damn couple you've ever seen to race in the rain.