Perspective.

 

It’s been a year since Ann started this cancer journey.  On April 19, 2023, we heard the word “mass” for the first time.  On April 20th, she met with the thoracic surgeon for the first time, and then on April 21st, she underwent the chest tube placement and tumor biopsy that identified it as lymphoma.  

 

Looking back at the last 12 months, it’s easy to see how far we’ve come, something you don’t get while you’re walking the path in the moment. I don’t know how many days she has spent in the hospital, how many naps she has had to take, how much hair has been lost, or how many pills she has had to take as her body has essentially become a chemistry experiment.  

 

But here we are, 365 days later.  And here she is, still with us.  Modern medicine, maddening as it may be in many ways, is still a gift. Either sets of our parents, had they got this at her age, probably wouldn’t have made it.  That’s how far the science has come.   I still remember the surgeon’s words- “This is the kind of cancer you WANT to have, because it can be cured. We’ve come a long way in the last 15-20 years of research in lymphoma.” 

 

But let’s also not forget that we are still here as well, thanks to a LOT of prayer, and help from so, so many of you.  Meals, mowing grass, help with my work, caring for Ann’s wound, child care, shuttling kids, shuttling Ann, hospital visits, home visits, cards and letters, encouragement.  It’s all the things.  

 

I talked to one of my partners a little over a week ago as he started a similar journey with his wife a month before we started ours….you just look at things differently now.  Sitting on the front porch feeling the wind in my face or hearing it come through the trees as they are growing new leaves this spring is different.  Work has been different.  Coaching Caidan’s teams has been different.   

 

Watching Brendan graduate and then taking him to UTK this past fall, she was here.  Driving to the kid’s games this fall and winter, she was here.  Home schooling Caidan this fall/spring, she was here. Christmas with the whole family together, she was here. Taking AK for college visits and travel soccer tournament, she was here.  Lying down for bed at night, and she is here.  

 

She may not have that much hair right now, and snores like crazy when she’s on steroids, but she is here.  As we start year 2 on this journey in the maintenance phase of treatment- chemo IV with steroids every 90 days, one chemo pill every week and one every day- we continue to move forward one day at a time.  This has reinforced the need for patience- as we don’t know what will happen with each step we take, and resilience- as some days may be tougher than others, that doesn’t mean that they all will be tough. To get to tomorrow you first have to walk through today. 

 

Do what you need to do today, God will be faithful to do His part.