I have seen that word used a million different ways. I spent six years of my life being one of those crazy bastards otherwise known as the US Marines. Always thought that would be the toughest training of my life. I find it amazing in how something can simply be a stepping stone to challenges that are above and beyond what you thought was hard.
My wife and I trained for a marathon. 26.2 miles of running… Up until the day of the marathon, we had only run 18 miles max. But we figured if we could get that far we could do 26.2. So on the marathon course, about mile 21 Lynda was getting ready to pull it over and call it good. Then her brother “stepped out” of the crowd to help her along.
David is in a wheelchair, he has no movement below his shoulders. He is a quadriplegic due to a three wheeler accident. That lifted Lynda up and inspired her to finish the entire marathon, having him wheel beside us for a mile or so. Inspired me as well. When we finished, Lynda was proud, but told me she would NEVER run that far again, she had never in her life ever put herself through that much pain. A stepping stone that we were unaware of.
I had watched my first wife, Connie, die from pancreatic cancer, in one hundred and sixty three days from diagnosis to death, I watched the woman I love go from a vibrant woman to a whisper. If you have ever had to live through that particular nightmare, it is the cruelest, meanest thing that life can hand you, but also the time in your life when you realize that you had better put all you have into your time left. Make it worth the show.
In 2008 a spot showed up on Lynda’s shoulder. and we freaked. We went to Arizona to try a naturopath there that had some pretty good results with cancer that had spread. Lynda’s brother just happened to have bought a small condo there in the same area. He fixed it up beautifully and she stayed there while I worked in California for 4 days then drove back and forth to Arizona. Somewhere in the process Lynda was infused with a bag of sterile water. The medicine didn’t make it into the bag, and so she got a bag of sterile water. Guess what that does?
It causes acute hemolytic anemia. She couldn’t take 3 steps without almost falling down. They infused here with 6 pints of blood to get her back. I damn near lost her that day. At the time, none of the physicians had any idea what had happened. They suspected that the cancer had somehow gone wild and got into her bones. They did a bone marrow check and nope, she was fine. It wasn’t until years later when we were discussing what had happened with my doctor that he went “Hey! yeah, sterile water, the doctor didn’t infuse the bag with meds”.
Remember that stepping stone? If Lynda had not been in such phenomenal shape, chances are she wouldn’t have made it. In the meantime, I get to be the watchful guardian, and I missed that. I realize that is nothing I normally would have seen, but now? Paranoia runs supreme in my household… I check everything, but fortunately I haven’t had to since then.
Dealing with cancer, regardless of how you treat it, naturopathically or standard western medicine, you need to understand from the moment that they use the word “cancer” and your name in the same sentence, your life as you know it is over. Every tweak, every twinge, every little “wtf”, is scary. It is a lot like going through combat. I have a friend, Michael Palfrey, who did some time in Iraq going from house to house… He commented that he hated TV with a passion, movies too. Cause right before someone gets killed you hear the music change or go up in volume then “BANG” someone dies. He said in reality? The guy’s head just explodes and he drops. No music, no nothing, he is just gone.
With cancer? you never know what is around the next corner, you are always on alert, always in some form of “combat mode”, blood tests, markers, urine tests, PET scans, MRI’s always probing for the enemy… and that changes who you are and how you present yourself to the world. It is a lifetime of tap dancing through landmines, just waiting for one to go off. I have watched Lynda over the years. She has gone from a confident woman to a confident warrior in the truest meaning of the word. She changed her lifestyle, her diet, and has researched everything from nutrition to supplements to medicine. She has fought hard for every day she has with me. And while I may be a squad leader, the real fighter is Lynda. I am just support.
For all you nurses, doctors, friends and family that have supported us? Especially Dr. James Sinclair of Pacific Oncology, you and your staff just ROCK.
Thank you, the fight has been a good one and continues on.. This gal here: “Warriors” was another inspiration, in fact, this gal inspired this post via a Facebook post that made me remember just what a warrior my own wife is.
Honey, I got yer back for the next 40 years.