Day 1:
When I first received the news that I had lung cancer, I
felt very sad. After several tests, we suspected it was probable, but I had
remained hopeful that it could still be benign. Now I had the answer.
Just hearing the word malignant is scary enough, but
then you must accept that you have just been diagnosed with cancer.
As tears ran down my face, I quickly had to pull myself
together. I needed to tell my daughter.
She is the one who has been by my side, giving me such
beautiful love and support, and she will continue to be with me throughout this
journey. The comfort of that is truly immeasurable.
As we talked and cried, a strange calm came over me. I
wasn’t trying to be strong or brave—I just felt a sense of peace.
Maybe it was the first stage of grief that everyone speaks
of—denial. But somehow, I felt like everything was going to be okay.
Day 2:
I wasn’t sure how I would feel this morning, but I actually
slept very well—better than usual, which really surprised me. I always gauge my
true feelings about something by how I sleep.
I’m very superstitious that way—if I have a major decision
to make, like buying a car or a house, or attending a particular event, I
always trust my instincts and follow the old adage: just sleep on it.
Any concerns or misgivings I may have tend to surface as bad
dreams or restless anxiety throughout the night.
I woke feeling refreshed and ready to move forward with the
rest of my life—somehow freer than I have ever felt before.
Day 3:
Today feels different. I didn’t sleep as well as the night
before, and I woke up thinking about my daughters, which brought me to tears.
I suppose this is part of the process in this new journey. I
need to give myself grace to feel whatever I am feeling.
Day 4:
Another bright and beautiful day. My outlook remains
optimistic, and I am truly grateful for that.
Having my daughter’s incredible support means the world to
me, even as I know she is struggling to control her emotions so she can stay
strong for me.
This situation has brought up many painful memories. We lost
my mother to the same condition at the same age over 30 years ago.
The most positive aspect is that we caught this early enough
for treatment, making a cure a very real possibility.
How we even found this out is an interesting story. Last
year, after being hospitalized with a severe Covid-19 infection, I was
diagnosed with Atrial Fibrillation —a heart condition I had never had before.
As a result, I was prescribed medication. After a year of
being symptom-free, I asked my doctor if he would consider taking me off the
medication.
He agreed but requested that I undergo one more test to
check for any heart-related issues.
That test revealed a non-coronary finding: a lung nodule
that had been seen during my Covid episode but had not resolved and had grown.
That is how this journey began. Since then, it has been a
whirlwind of tests and appointments—so much so that I have barely had time to
really think about what is happening. That is helping to keep my spirits high.
Day 5:
Today, I woke up a little early, thinking about one of my
last tests before meeting with the doctors next week. I am looking forward to
getting this done—I am even a little excited.
I am staying focused on the exceptional care I’m receiving
from the hospital, as well as the personal support from my precious daughter.
There are moments when I slip into that dark place and think
about what this all means. I let myself feel it, but then I shift gears or
distract myself until I return to the reassuring thought that everything will
work out.
Day 6:
Today, the reality of my situation really sank in when I
received the results from my test yesterday. It’s one of those moments where
I’m grateful not to have had too much information beforehand.
Fortunately, the results appear to be good, but I’ll know
more when I meet with the doctors next week. We’ll discuss all the tests and
decide on a treatment plan.
For now, I’ll focus on resting and keeping myself busy,
trying not to dwell on what I don’t know yet.
I have so much to be grateful for, which makes it easier to
focus on all the wonderful things in my life.
Day 7:
Today is an emotional, weepy kind of day. I’m working on
completing my will and last wishes for my family, and it truly feels like an
emotional landmine. I really have to pace myself and take breaks when I start
feeling overwhelmed.
So far, I have been fairly stable. I do have occasional
bouts of sadness, but overall, I feel like I have been coping pretty well.
I am looking forward to meeting with the doctors tomorrow to
discuss my treatment plan and prognosis moving forward.
Six Months later…
Today marks six months since my diagnosis. To say it has
been a long, strange journey is an understatement—but it has led to the best
possible outcome.
After undergoing surgery to remove the tumor, I am now
cancer-free.
If not for the early screening that detected the cancer,
this could have been a very different story.
I can truly say that having Covid-19 saved my life.
My deepest gratitude goes to the incredible providers who
gave me outstanding care with kindness and compassion.
And most of all, to my precious daughter—who walked through
this with me, side by side, laughing, crying, and everything in between—thank
you from the bottom of my heart for being such a beautiful gift in my life.
Through it all, I have learned to embrace gratitude, trust
in the process, and focus on what truly matters.
The love and support of those around us, the strength we
discover within ourselves, and the unexpected twists of fate can all lead to
something greater than we ever imagined.
And always, even in uncertainty, there is hope.
Have you ever faced a medical crisis or critical
diagnosis? How did you cope? Did you receive the support you needed? Please
share your stories and experiences.
No comments:
Post a Comment