This time of year always brings special meaning to me. I was given a second chance at life. I still remember that day seven years
ago. The fresh air, a crisp chill with a
hint of decaying leaves. The bright
autumn hues jumped from every leaf. Sunlight
dipped behind the hillside as we drove to the west. After an eleven month battle for my life, my
doctors finally cut me loose. A
chocolate cake, presents, and a very sincere “Thank you” and I was ushered out
the door to restart my life. October 15,
2005 was the end of my final chemotherapy treatment; I hoped that #13 would be
lucky for me (I refused the final 14th treatment, my body and spirit
had nothing left to fight with).
| Halloween 2005. |
At my five year checkup, I said goodbye to my doctors in
Wisconsin. I was released from their
care. As one of their few adult
pediatric patients, they let me take charge of my own health and left all
decisions up to me. They will never know
how much that meant to me at a time where I felt I had no control over my
life.
With each passing checkup, my nervousness faded… I still go for yearly checkups, now consisting of no more than a couple blood tests. I celebrate my own official survivorship day on the anniversary of my final scans, Nov. 11.
A couple of months ago, I mentioned that my toddler cousin
had a growth on her arm. A diagnosis was
made: cancer. They did surgery to remove
it, but healthy tissue margins weren’t obtained because of the location in her
tiny arm. A long snake-like scar now runs
the entire length of her forearm. In
fact, Little D and I have matching left arms.
Her parents, my cousin and her husband, consulted for hours with the
doctors. Considering her age and the rarity
of this particular cancer, there was no clear way to proceed. All carried severe, life-changing risks. Ultimately, they decided to amputate. The
hope is that Little D will have a normal childhood and is too young to remember
her arm as she gets older. Just a few
days before Thanksgiving, she will join me in the survivor club. Everybody pray that surgery goes well and she
stays a survivor.
9 comments:
Thinking of your cousin and family. What a terrible decision to have to make :(
To think that 7 years later you're running strong, living a wonderful adventurous and full life, you're incredible! Your cousin is lucky to have you to help explain things to her as she gets older. Sending positive thoughts to your family as they go through this difficult decision.
Oh my goodness will definitely be praying for this precious little one.
Oh, amputation, how sad. I hope she is okay and healthy just like you!
Poor girl. If she's related to you she will no doubt do great.
That's tough stuff.
I'm glad she has amputation as an option. I'm sad she has to lose her arm. I'm glad she has you as a mentor in how a survivor should live. I'm sad that you have to have this big thing in common.
Sending thoughts, prayers and hope.
I am so glad you are healthy and happy, and I am praying for your cousin, too:)
Oh my gosh. What an amazing story of your survival. Congratulations on your last 7 years and everything you clearly went through before. And I'm so sorry about your cousin, but it sounds like the doctors are doing the right things for her.
Thinking of Little D and her family...praying and sending my very best :)
What a beautiful thing to have you here with us...I am so very glad :)
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