In order to end this difficult year, please allow me to provide an overall summary of how it all went, and I apologize in advance on all of the negative events. But please, allow me to explain.
It started at the beginning of the winter season, where major seizures were returning to my presence. However, these seizures were a bit different than last time. They were physically abusing, yes, but the difference was more of a mental state. Why, you ask? Because this time, I was living with my fiancée. For the first time in our adult relationship, she was seeing this cancer’s brutal strength against me. Once these seizures were becoming a daily routine, my doctors gave me two options. The first would be to simply strengthen my prescription medications and just attempt in dealing with the guaranteed seizures as best as I could. However, this was not the recommended medical option. The second option was to have brain surgery in order to remove as much of the tumor as possible. After the operation, the next step was to go through 30 days straight of radiation and chemo. After a month’s worth of recovery from that, the final step would be to repeat the 12 months of chemo similar to the 2014-2015 attempt. As you all know, I am now post-op, post-radiation, and mid-chemo. These events were spread out from the spring to the year-end of 2018.
What else happened this year? Was that not enough? Well good, because I was not finished. Leah and I canceled our wedding in order to focus on my health. I missed months of work from the employer that I show great passion towards. I spent these months at home, where my days consisted of waking up in the morning, walking down to my couch, and then going back to bed at night. MONTHS. I went on my father’s boat ONCE this summer. I missed the St. Peter’s Fiesta. I am unsure if I can even cry anymore because the year 2018 has emptied my faucets.
What is the point of this blog post? To vent to my readers? Perhaps a bit. On top of this, however, I write this blog post because 2019 represents my fifth year of this cancer diagnosis, and you know what? I am still here and it is going to be the best year of my life. Cancer is yet to finish it’s desire. My fiancée still loves me, and plans to take my last name in this upcoming year. My family and friends still have my back, and they believe/remind, when I struggle to believe/remind, that I am still here, and cancer is currently losing.
I wrote a Facebook post earlier this month, while I laid in bed on a Thursday afternoon. It had to do with that particular chemo week feeling as if it was penetrating my soul. I was so depressed that everyone else got to be at work and deal with work stress, and relationship (or lack thereof) stress, whilst I dealt with cancer stress, and the fact that I have introduced this cancer stress to Leah.
But as I mentioned earlier, I am still here. I wake up every morning to a new day. Please read this blog and try to understand my point. I am in and out of the hospital. I am on several medications that I depend on in order to help me get through the day. I desperately need my fiancée, family, and friends in my life – I am truly dependent on them. But at the end of the day I, myself, am the patient in that doctors office. I am the one inside the MRI machine every two months. I am the one taking these pills. Battling this cancer means leaning on your team, and at the same time, using your own skills to contribute to living a long life.
Find your balance. Find your passion. Find your teammates. So…why would you believe in incorporating this own mindset into your own life? Here’s why. If you read the end of that Facebook post, here is the summary of every word that I just typed within this blog post and perhaps this entire Mindful Sight website…
“Why am I writing [these posts] about all of this? Because I am trying to battle cancer, for the second time, in order to love as passionately as possible…
So tell me…what’s your excuse?”