...and it will all be fine in the end.
This morning, Candace and I had a follow-up consult with my doctor. A week ago, we learned that I have a superficial but aggressive cancer that would like to make its move on shortening my life. My doctor discussed the proposed treatment that is slated to begin sometime soon after April 11. Treatment cannot begin until the site of my biopsy heals.
The treatment itself will take 6-weeks, with a once a week visit to the exam room to have a form of immunotherapy pumped into me; we opted to forego the use of chemotherapy and also an approach that is in clinical trials.
Six weeks after my final treatment, I will once again be going in for an invasive, exploratory appointment with potential for another biopsy. If the cancer has been eradicated, I will remain on a regime of treatments for the foreseeable future. This type of cancer has a track record of being pernicious to return and wreak havoc.
If the cancer has not been eradicated, Candace and I will face some new hurdles which may include a rather intense and quality of life altering surgery. We've decided to focus on the here and now rather than upon the 'what-if?' that hangs in the balance and out of our control.
What is in our control is how we move forward while living day to day. The biggest change to my life right now is making lifestyle choices around food and exercise which we hope, which we have researched, and which we believe to be important steps toward making my body ready for treatment while giving the treatment the most beneficial platform upon which to work. Ultimately, the immunotherapy's goal is to radically boost my own immune system so that my body will do the work of pinpointing and attacking the carcinoma.
There is no such thing as coincidence
I don't believe in coincidence. As I've aged and gather more experiences, I am all the more convinced of this; amidst the mundane is the Sublime, who whispers and nudges and influences circumstances and decisions somewhere in that realm where the Sovereignty of God and the free will of man embrace and absorb each other. This gray area is where I've seen the profound make itself manifest.
Years ago, Candace began her own personal exploration into the realm of healthy nutrition and different aspects of exercise. In more recent times—about the past three years or so—her exploration found her learning more about metabolism and dietary changes which both enable and discourage cancer, both prior to diagnosis and after one tests positive.
As we stand on the threshold of a new challenge, Candace comes ready with a plethora of scientific data and studies which have stood up to peer review and (unfortunately) remain outside of the mainstream of big-pharma-driven modern medicine. We have both moved from dabblers into the realm of amateur practitioners. With one week in the books, I hope to reach intermediary level before treatment begins.
I am in training. Training means work and sacrifices and goals. Training does not insure victory, but victory without training means that the battle was not that big of a deal to begin with. My doctor made it evident to me today when she reiterated, "This is a life-threatening cancer."
Also within my control is my attitude. I get to choose how I will approach this challenge. I have chosen to meet it head on. Candace is with me, by my side (sometimes leading, sometimes being lead). We both know that this life and these bodies are temporal. We both believe that there is a life after this one, and I am prepared for it as well. In Christ, physical death is not the end.
I am not afraid. I am also not naive; I may be afraid tomorrow, next week, or any time moving forward. By choosing to have an attitude of gratitude—a choice I must make moment by moment, day by day—the result of the final outcome will be moot. Whether the work I put forward, with my will to press on and overcome and the intervention of modern medicine determines whether this cancer gets beaten or not will not diminish the goodness and beauty of the moment and of our story. There is beauty in suffering. There is goodness and hope always.
So in addition to taking every day one day at a time, I also plan to savor things more. Conversations. Sleep. The food I
can eat :). My friends and my family.
I'm am currently in the process of launching my own
life-coaching practice. I will
not be putting this project on hold. I'm actually wrapping up additional certifications in trauma and mental health coaching. I'm still working on outdoor landscaping projects and in-home room renovations with Candace. I still enjoy a great crew of people at the residential treatment facility at which I work and have self-initiated projects to complete.
Life doesn't stop being life, unless you stop living it to the full while you still have breath in your lungs. Many of us stopped living years ago… So it's time to start!
