The C Word – Day 1,825

This is a day we never thought we would arrive at.  One thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days.  Five years.  Five very long years.

As George says, “It’s 5 years from when we first heard that word – Cancer.  But I’ve been fighting it for 12 years since a scan back in 2007 actually showed what was the first ‘seed’, the first tumor that went unnoticed and undiagnosed for seven years.” 

We’ve had quite a roller coaster for the past five years… as husband and wife… as survivor/patient and caregiver… as advocates and educators… as a family. 

We are still amazed at the people who have stepped up or showed up for us when we’ve needed it.  For the many who tell us we are in their daily prayers.  Although cards have slowed down, there were some amazing surprises in the early days of learning this diagnosis. 

George has a few great friends who call to chat regularly.  A couple will pop by for visits a few times a month. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t give a huge shout out to Dr. Bastidas.  Without his knowledge and skillful hands, George would not be here today.  He is more than a surgeon, he is a friend.

We have an amazing group of daughters who have learned to be flexible with family plans and who take the time to check in now and then. 

While it can be hard to stay connected during times of isolation, these things help us to stay connected on some level to the greater world.  Our own world has gotten so little that those little ‘trips’ to escape via talking and visiting with other are crucial to our survival.  A chance to get outside of the bubble we seem to be in. 

The past five years have seen George progress slowly on this journey.  Once a robust, vibrant, healthy and active man, now he has so little energy and stamina that short jaunts out of the house turn into exhaustion when we get home.  The garage sits pretty much as it did five years ago although there was a period of time that he created one or two things out there.  The wood that he purchased on that fateful diagnosis day still sits in various parts of the garage – the plans for the dual Adirondack chair still sitting on a clipboard.  A plan gone awry, but the memory is still there. 

We miss what was supposed to be, what might have been.  The hope we had that once Mom was gone and George was retired would be spent doing some traveling or building or making new memories are gone, but not forgotten.  We yearn for that.  This is not how we anticipated our senior years to be.

Our wedding song, “Grow Old Along With Me, the Best is Yet to Be” cut short.  This is certainly not the best by any stretch of the imagination.  The past five years have been grueling.  They have tested our relationship.  We still stand together and we still stand strong.  But what we wouldn’t give for just another taste of freedom from cancer, from pain, from certain death.  What we wouldn’t give to have the past five years erased, perhaps have a ‘do-over’. 

We tell people to not take life for granted.  We warn them not to waste time in anger or hatred, in fear and wrath. 

Spend the precious time you have here on earth spewing love and hugs, patience, tolerance, and good will.  Leave a legacy of honesty and integrity, of hope and peace.  Leave this place on earth better than when you arrived if possible. 

Happy Survivorsary, George!