In the next moment was the singular time I ever googled Mantle Cell Lymphoma. I suspect some of you who cared about me may have done that, too. The first statistic that I saw was that it had a 1 in 4 chance of five year survival. I immediately shut it down. My mind was racing. I had just filed for divorce weeks before and was certain my kids were going to need me, as I knew even then I was going to be their most stable parent. I’m not sure if it was in that moment, or at some other point later that day, that I afforded myself about 2 minutes to feel sorry for myself and wonder “why me, why now?” But then I followed it up with thoughts of, “why not me?” Life isn’t fair. I make this statement to my kids weekly. I had certainly seen many examples of horrible things happening to good people before. So that was that. Never again in the rest of the journey did I allow myself to have a victim mentality or to feel sorry for myself. Additionally, I never saw myself falling to those odds. I almost immediately had a sense of peace that I would survive. That may have been a God thing. Yes, my mindset remained positive, and I’m sure that helped. I believe in science and know it was through chemotherapy and a stem-cell transplant that I was healed. And all of the prayers and positive energy that were offered up on my behalf during this difficult time from all those who loved or cared for me, my boys, or my extended family certainly didn’t hurt. And the rest is history (and if you were following along, has all been documented here).

 

So here I am, 5 years post diagnosis. I survived, as instinctually I knew I would. But it’s still worth acknowledging. We are all good. I navigated a difficult divorce. I am raising 3 boys on my own. My life’s circumstances might not be for the faint of heart, but if cancer/divorce/single parenthood has taught me anything, it is that I am far stronger than I ever previously realized. Upon reflection of the past 5 years, I have recognized many silver linings to come from my cancer journey. I will share just one of those for now.

 

So Sam is a senior in high school. We are in the thick of college applications at the present time. We’ve been on many college tours, I tell him which college reps to visit at his school each week… given this is a big part of my work with other people’s kids, it is exciting to finally be going through it with my oldest child. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say the idea of Sam leaving doesn’t make me want to weep at times. He’s such an amazing kid, he’s so helpful around the house, he enjoys hanging out with me, I love listening to him play his guitar while I make dinner, so it’s going to be tough to let him go. I’m also going to be broken hearted if he doesn’t get to go away because I simply can’t afford it… I had to pay my mortgage the entire time I was on medical leave, my divorce cost me way more than it should have, and these things sucked up a good amount of money I had saved for college. But we are going to remain hopeful and cast a wide net, and I do believe, some how, some way, it’s going to work out for him, because he sure deserves it. Circling back to a silver lining of cancer… you know what? I defied the odds, and though I’m not going to pretend it’s not going to be tough to let Sam go, I am beyond grateful that I am here on this earth to watch him graduate, and make this next big decision, and to feel all the feels when I am able to drop him off at college, because it isn’t lost on me that not everyone was as fortunate. So that tremendous gratitude is something I may not have felt had I not faced dismal odds of survival and will most definitely overpower some of that sadness I might feel, and quite frankly, that seems like a pretty great silver lining to me!

 

In the past I often spoke of throwing myself a big ole party to celebrate, but in reality, it’s a Wednesday, I have to work, Bennett has a flag football game after school, Will has a softball game, Sam might have to work. Maybe I will pick up a cake and the 4 of us can sit down for a few minutes and celebrate that we ALL made it… because this was their journey too, and frankly, there is no one else I’d rather celebrate with than my boys, because they were my motivators all along the way. Without them, I’m not sure things would have turned out the same way. So here’s to another 5, 10, 15… heck 50 years cancer free!