Thought 20: Feeling surrounded . . .

It is hard to believe that college students have to decide what they want to do the rest of their life by the end of their sophomore year. I was lucky as I knew my major would be psychology before I even stepped on to the Furman campus. When I was 20 years old, I walked into the office of Lib Nanny in the basement of Plyler Hall to declare being a psych major. Looking back now I would still choose that path, but I probably would have stuck a semester of foreign study in there. I am proud I survived Furman as a psych major - trust me, it is a badge of honor. Furman prepared me so much as a writer and researcher - a foundation I will forever benefit from both professionally and personally. 

My first touch with cancer (at least when I was aware) came when I was 19 years old. My Granddaddy (dad's dad) passed away from lung cancer at the end of my first semester in college. I was of course devastated as this was also the first time I really encountered death in my own family. My BaPa (mom's dad) passed away when I was an infant. I will always wish I had the chance to get to know him, but I am glad he had the chance to meet me. Other than my Granddaddy, I had not encountered a lot of cancer in my life until my 30s, at least that was on my radar screen. I don't know if it just wasn't really there or I just wasn't paying attention.

I have been very troubled and disturbed lately with how much cancer I see around me. Maybe I became more aware when I had my brush with renal cancer in 2012. Since my tumor was operable, I never really felt like I had "cancer." I never really felt like I could claim I was part of the club. I did not have to undergo any chemotherapy or radiation. I just had an operation and it was gone. But I will never forget the moment when I got the call from my doctor with the diagnosis. I was standing in the middle of a grassy field with Megan and some friends. I felt like my whole life had come to a halt and my mind went straight to the worst case scenario. I was terrified. My biggest question and worry throughout that experience was, how did my body create this? Will it do it again? There is no answer to this, but I will continue to get scanned and checked out annually to make sure I am cancer free.

I also have to admit that I have had some bitterness toward all the attention toward cancer since losing my mom. The "C" word (which my mom always told me was a bad word in her house growing up) is always seen as the worst possible diagnosis. After watching my mom lose her life to ALS, a disease that has no cure or treatment, I thought that at least cancer has treatment options - at least there is some hope. I have had to work through a lot of anger about my mom having such a harsh diagnosis. The thing is though, it is all very harsh and makes no sense. Why my loved one? Why now? What are our options? Sometimes there are options and sometimes there are not. Either way, facing a possible terminal illness, you or a family member, is frightening, devastating, and debilitating, no matter the diagnosis.

My sweet Jennie on the far left. 

I have seen cancer hit the lives of many friends and some family members over the course of the past five years in particular, and some before then. But the last two years I have seen the very best outcomes along with the very worst. I am overwhelmed by how much suffering I see out there to cancer. The thing that made June 2012 (the month I had my tumor removed) so terribly difficult and awakening to me was I lost a dear friend and colleague to breast cancer (Jennie) who was a few years younger to me, as well as an old work colleague to colon cancer that was only two years older than me. I learned about both recovering in my bed at home and was just floored by it. My dear friend Jennie, who will always be one of the best people I have ever met, made such a dynamic mark on this world. She had a spirit that was like no other and I just wish I had been there for her during her last year and had the chance to know her better. She is a loss I will never understand.

Then I watched one of my very best friends face a breast cancer diagnosis in fall 2012 and come through the other end of it just fine. She faced her diagnosis and treatment with such strength and I am glad that I had the chance to be close to her as she took that journey. We celebrate her today as she recently gave birth to twins and hopefully will continue to stay cancer free. The thing that has been the hardest for me is to see so many young people in their 30s and 40s battling this diagnosis. I guess I never noticed it before because I wasn't in that age group, but I do think there is a higher trend in seeing cancer in younger populations. Some people I learn about are friends, friends of friends, or complete strangers. The hardest to understand will always be children. A friend of mine from college lost her son last year. I just find it all very maddening. It can be cancer, heart disease, ALS, or whatever, seeing so much pain at any age is something that hits me hard at my core. I am a person that internalizes the problems and pain of others and feels so helpless that there is nothing I can do to help.

I know that cancer and other diseases will be something I will see more and more of as I get older. Although, I stay hopeful that over the next 10 years we will see some scientific breakthroughs. I am a big supporter of stem cell research and think that it holds some great possibilities for treatment and cures. I just feel like right now I am surrounded by stories of cancer, both from people I know and strangers. I continue to participate in the intercessory prayer ministry at my church and spend an hour a week praying for others. I see a lot of difficult cancer stories there from every age.

This week has been particularly difficult as I watch one of my best friends face her dad's losing battle with cancer. It hits me so hard for so many reasons, but mainly I don't want to see someone I love hurting.  My heart is with her and her dad as they share some important moments together in the coming days. I dedicated my 10K run to him in January and was hoping so badly that his run with cancer would be at a better place now. She knows I love her from the bottom of my heart and I will be here for whatever happens.

Some people say "cancer sucks" and it absolutely does. Pain and loss sucks. Losing a loved one sucks. However "sucks" does not seem like the appropriate word. I think every person that deals with it probably has a different word they would use. I am still searching for the right one. Any diagnosis that can threaten your life or cause you pain is devastating. But I am determined not to lose my hopeful spirit. Otherwise, why would I say a prayer. I pray that all of my friends and family (including myself) that have faced cancer don't ever have to again. I pray that those losing the battle can be surrounded by their loved ones and see that their life can continue through the eyes and spirit of those they love the most. Ultimately, I pray that they find a cure, which is why hope is so important.