Skip to main content

Life changes in a dime

I caught some sort of nasty stomach thing this week. I will spare you details but once my scan ruled out appendicitis my dr thought it was probably noro virus (yes I’m the one person in America who gets noro in the summer months )
So in spite of my instant weight loss plan (which as we know never lasts long) the week has sucked on many levels.
This is my week to be volunteering at a camp I’ve been involved with the past two years. It’s an amazing non profit (Camp Casco)which provides a week of free summer camp to pediatric cancer patients.
It’s a cause close to my heart for the obvious reasons.
As each day has passed my FOMO grew but clearly the kids come first and as I was only slowly getting better the red flag went up- putting kids health at risk was clearly not something we were willing to take.
As I lied in bed feeling sad for myself I received an email.
I had known the time was coming but it’s never easy to hear.
A friend from town had died from cancer.
He is a man in his 40s with two teenaged children and an awesome wife. He was a healthy guy who one day got blindsided.
It's how we are diagnosed
Blindsided.
One day you’re watching your kid score a soccer goal and the next day you’ve become fluent in cancer jargon.
He could be us.
He is us.
This one hit close to home.
I met his lovely wife when I first moved to town and joined the young women’s club (back when I was young-ish).
We had seen each other briefly over the years at school functions, social gatherings or perhaps in the produce aisle at Roche Brothers.
Until I saw her in the parking garage at the hospital.
Me; leaving oncolgy.
Her; going (with her husband) to oncology.
We stopped for a brief hug in the lower level of the garage and to exchange how sorry we were that we were each going through this.
Each of us holding back the floodgates and putting on the obligatory strong front.
He was diagnosed only weeks before I was.
His chemo schedule was every 3 weeks at the time where mine was weekly so we would occasionally cross paths and say hello over our chemo drips and hour stretches in the big leather chairs.
Small talk was hard.
"How are you?" I would ask.
Angered at myself , knowing full well how much I hated the ridiculous question.
I knew he wasn’t well.
It has been 2 years since our passing in the garage.
My hair has grown back.
My port is gone
and my scars aren’t purple.
There is no blessed in cancer
No lucky
No “good cancer”
but tonight there is only one word that I can muster up
Only one word that describes how one person lives and one does not
Unfair.
As you continue on with your summer ..
Toes in sand
eating too much ice cream
letting your kids sleep in ..
Please relish in it.
Soak it up
Hold on tight
BE PRESENT
**Please consider making a donation to the cancer charity of your choice tonight to help find a cure.
It’s taking far too many lives.
Cutting too many lives short.

Comments