This is the videoblog of David B. Oliver. David shared his cancer journey with the world in hopes of depriving death of its strangeness. Peace be with you.
Dear David,My husband was diagnosed with sinusnasal cancer last fall and I think he has had much of the same treatment as you. He received 4 rounds of chemotherapy 21 days apart and then 35 facial radiation treatments. He is now approx 2 weeks out in finishing up the radiation. I was amazed how your and his journey have been so similiar. My question is this however: have you and your wife always gone thru your journey with such optimism and total positivity. Maybe I as the caregiver am not as strong as your wife but the side of the cancer I do not think you have shared are the times your wife has sat down and cried, prayed and prayed and prayed and become totally humbled by the outpouring of kindness by others. You mentioned the meals and the cards but at times I had to sit down and just bawl because I have never felt that loved. So so humbling. My husband has stage 1/2 and initally we were given a 20-40% 5 yr survival at one major institution and then we headed south and went up to an 75% prognosis if he responded to chemotherapy. He has thank God - and now we are hoping to hear mid March "NED" (no evidence of disease) we have 4 children and are both physicians and so are journey has been even a little more "special." We have had much love shown toward us during our journey and many times I literally felt that we were floating on a cloud of prayer making it from one day to the next. As you said very well - cancer is all consuming. For many days it was the last thing I thought about when I went to bed and the first thing I thought about when I awoke in the morning. So got you there. Anyhow we live about 30 miles away and are MU fans also. Crazy huh? Wishing you a very long and forever remission in your future and will keep you in my prayers too.
Indeed similar stories! Don't give us too much credit- indeed we have our moments! Initially during diagnosis we kept to ourselves- but it was so hard. People then would ask how I was and I would just break down- and unable to even communicate. Opening up helped as at least I had "permission" to break down. Indeed hours and days of tears- and even still at least once a week something hits me and my emotions come forth. I love your description of the cloud of protection- I have called it a blanket but I sure understand! A friend or even a stranger sends us a message and suddenly we feel so much better- how can words mean so much- but they do! Its still usually my last and first thought- indeed we are consumed- hope that will change at least for awhile now that we are on chemo vacation until it reappears. Tow huge pieces of advice. First step by step- literally hope changes to step b step. Next find at least once positive every day- sometimes its only that the sun is coming up- but none the less focusing on that one positive can spill over to the rest of the day. Best of luck to all our companions on this journey- step by step!Debbie