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Writer's pictureThe Right Boot

Getting a "C" in Life

Updated: Dec 15, 2020


Aunt Geralyn and her "Chicken Dance" Hamster

In less than two weeks, I have heard the "C" word three separate times. Whoa, whoa, whoa... Not that "C" word. I just meant "cancer"...


But, the thing is, I don't "just mean" anything. Cancer is a life changing diagnosis-- one that can be terminal. You don't need to be a doctor to know a diagnosis that is succeeded by the word "cancer" is bad. You don't ever just say "cancer". We don't make light of cancer and we certainly don't joke about it. It's a word we all dread and while we hope we are never touched by it, the statistics show that 1 in 2 people will experience some form of cancer in their lifetime. 1 in 2... That's like saying there's me and you, and one of us will get cancer... The United Cancer Association estimates that 1,735,350 new cases of cancer will be diagnosed in the United States in the next year alone, and 609,640 of those people will die from the disease.


I have had the unfortunate experience of learning a family member, a best friend's ex-girlfriend, and an ex-“boyfriend”'s "girl"friend's father all have been struck with this awful disease within a week's time. Monday 10/22, Tuesday 10/23, and Tuesday 10/30. It's easy to forget the advancements and survival rates when you hear "Stage 3" or "Inoperable" or "It has metastasized to the lungs and liver". It's even harder when all of the cases you hear all have some combination of those terms... The survival median is 2 years for Pancreatic Cancer. It's 5 for Stomach Cancer and Lung Cancer. The median survival rate is the amount of time cancer researchers give as the length of time at which 50% of diagnosed patients will have passed away and 50% will hopefully be in remission. In the circumstance I find myself in, 1.5 of the individuals I know will have succumbed to their cancer diagnosis. Any knowledgeable individual will know Pancreatic Cancer will eventually take my fiancé's aunt. So who's next? The friend's ex or the ex's friend's father? Does it even matter?


In the long-run, it doesn't matter. In the long-run, both will likely be taken from this earth way too early. Stage 3, metastasized, inoperable cancer has afflicted 3 people I know in less than two weeks, but when you stop and think about it, they all had this awful disease long before it was even noticeable and we all did nothing because cancer is cruel and silently sneaks up on our loved ones in the dark of night when we all blissfully sleep.


(You are now reading this 4 months after I first started writing...)


I stopped writing this shortly after we saw my fiancé's aunt in JFK Hospital. It was hard to imagine writing about such a fatal disease when at the time she was in such good spirits and health otherwise. She wasn't that sick and therefore I had no right to write her in as if she were going to die tomorrow. Instead, we stayed positive and bought that hamster in a chicken suit, doing the chicken dance, to make her laugh when she got home; to remind her to practice her favorite line-dance in time for our wedding in November.


Yesterday, Jan. 1, 2019 my fiancé went to see her at Memorial Sloan Kettering. She is immuno-compromised, and I have bronchitis. I wasn't able to be there when her family learned that her white count is 0.5 and she is no longer an eligible candidate for chemotherapy. Before they give her another treatment round, her cells need to grow back to a level-7. They also learned that Aunt Geralyn cannot take Florfirinox anymore (a drug whose research showed the greatest SR in individuals with end stage cancer) due to the way it has deteriorated her body within two treatments. Her children are in denial that she has what most of America calls a "death sentence". Doctors predict without additional chemotherapy she could leave us before Easter. We very likely will not see Aunt Geralyn do the chicken dance at our wedding.


Cancer is cruel. We established that. But all that aside, I'd like to say a little something to Cancer...


Dear Cancer,

I am writing this letter to you to thank you. I know you probably don't hear that a lot, but it's a new year and you deserve good news too. Without further ado, let me say thanks. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to strengthen familial relationships and reminding us to be grateful for what we have right now. Thank you for all the trips down memory lane that sparked an abundance of tears and laughter. Thank you for bringing out the best in people; be it their patience, time, donations, support, whatever. Thank you for showing our loved ones how strong and brave they are and for helping them weed out the people who were not worth worrying about (you learn real fast who cares when you start spending weeks in a hospital miles away from those you know). Thank you for teaching all of us what is truly important throughout our crazy and hectic lives; for teaching us what wasn't worth stressing over. Thank you for teaching us to let go of what is unnecessary and maybe even harmful. Thank you for what time you give us with our loved ones; be it 4 days or 4 months, or even 44 years. Thank you for giving our scientists and doctors (and dreamers of a better tomorrow) jobs and a wealth of opportunities to study you and stop you in your tracks.

Thank you, Cancer. For showing us how to make every moment count-- for making us own every single moment we have.

You do some cruel things to people, but realistically, you can only ever lose; be it through their eternal, peaceful sleep or eradication through treatments. Their medical charts might say "Cancer", but they will always be so much more than your diagnosis. They will be Aunt Geralyn, they will be Julia, and they will be Bonnie's dad, just as they were before they met you. Always and forever.

-Me.


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