Since these types of thoughts make many of us uncomfortable
or upset, we generally try to push them out of our minds. But if you or a loved one faces a
terminal illness, thinking about dying is only natural and inevitable.
With my mom, we prayed that she would not have pain or
suffering, and that she would be here for the next milestone: our wedding, my
pregnancy, the birth of her grandson, the holidays, Ryan’s first birthday,
etc. We were so blessed that she was
able to be here for these significant moments.
There is no guarantee that anybody will be here next year,
next week, or even tomorrow. I am
not saying this to sound morbid (I am actually a positive/cheerful
person) but because it makes me think about the value of my own life and the lives
of those around me.
I am always thinking, if there are only x amount of days left in my life, have I spent today
doing something that is worthwhile, meaningful, and that makes a positive
difference for others? How do I
want to be remembered when I am gone? What do I want to accomplish while I am here?
I am not at all scared about what will happen to me
afterwards. I know that my mom is
already waiting for me there with opened arms. My greatest concern is being able to provide enough love to my
family while I am still here, while I can.
I read somewhere that if a child loses a parent before age
five, they usually don’t remember much about them. I also read that there is a 30% chance of recurrence, within
the first three years, for triple negative breast cancer. I know that these are only statistics,
but I just can’t help but wonder.
Will I be able to be here for Ryan’s first day of
kindergarten, or for his high school graduation, or to dance with him at his
wedding? Will Barry and I have the
opportunity to fulfill our dream of growing our family and having more
children?
These are the impossible questions that preoccupy me as I go
in for my latest PET scan. It has
been fourteen and a half months since my last dose of chemotherapy, and we are
hoping and praying that the cancer has not returned to my body.
The radiologist sticks me with a needle and injects dye into
my veins. I have to lay completely
still and silent for an hour. Then
I am pushed through a large, cylinder-shaped machine that can detect any
indication of cancer in my body.
This one test determines my future. Our future.
We are anxious and eager for the results. A few days later, we receive the call from my oncologist.
My PET scan is completely clear. I am still cancer-free!
Praise God! I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Our future suddenly looks so bright! I have never been more happy to pass a test in my life. Here’s to hoping that I continue to pass this one over and over again.
Praise God! I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Our future suddenly looks so bright! I have never been more happy to pass a test in my life. Here’s to hoping that I continue to pass this one over and over again.
I was holding my breath until the end of your post! Thank you, Lord, for the clear test! I am so happy for you!!!
ReplyDeleteOMG I tried to read as fast as I could to read the results.. Actually I have been waiting for a month to see if you posted any news since your last apt. I am So happy you had a clear test! Praise God and Congrats!
ReplyDeleteWoo hoo! Such wonderful news!! So happy for you, Dana!
ReplyDeleteThank you ALL so very much! You ladies are too sweet! Thank you for always being so supportive with your messages and for following my blog. It means a lot to me. xo.
ReplyDeleteI loved this post - it reminds me to live every moment to the fullest too! And of course, I LOVE hearing those results again. Such incredible news. XOXO
ReplyDelete@Karen- Thanks for your kind words and also for being by my side throughout everything and always being there for me no matter what. I am so blessed to have you as my best friend! I love you and miss you!
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