Freedom

November is lung cancer awareness month and this past November marked 7 years since diagnosis. I would love to say that the worst part was everything I've had to go through physically, but it's not. Let me begin with what I've gone through physically.

Reaching out for help after my diagnosis

On November 27, 2012, I was told I had stage IV NSCLC with METs to the brain after a craniotomy. I had just turned 33 and was in complete shock. I didn't smoke, I was healthy and didn't understand why I was now suffering from a terminal illness. When asking the oncologist what this meant for my prognosis, he replied, "At this point, 12-18 months"

I was a single mom to a 7 year old back then. I had no family near me. It is just her father, her, and me. And she was too young to really help, much less comprehend what was going on. Thankfully I had friends that stepped up as well as her father.

Medically I've been through it all

As of today, I've had progression twice. Both were treated via SBRT to my right lung. My most recent progression was this past summer. I contracted radiation-induced pneumonia twice each time and it completely wiped me out.

After my daughter turned 8, I took her to do as much as I can while I still could. By traveling and going to concerts, I was making solid memories with her. I was terrified she would forget me.

After my craniotomy, I had gamma knife to the brain. Gamma knife is a type of precise radiation in which tumors are destroyed or craniotomy cavities are radiated to ensure all of the cancer is gone. So, technically, I've had radiation 3 times. I also spent the week of my daughter's birthday in the hospital with two pulmonary embolisms.

This past week I had a stroke. I will write more about that in a separate post as I think it will beneficial for others to know the warning signs.

My faith gives me strength

I didn't even count the fatigue and other symptoms that go along with my targeted therapy. It feels like lately, I've become a walking pharmacy. I know set pill reminders. But, throughout all of this, I am able to push through and not get so down.

I know where I'm going when I die. I have faith that our Lord will welcome me with open arms. I've tried desperately to walk with Him and depend on Him throughout this journey. He will see me through it.

The hardest part is the emotional toll

But, the hardest part is not physical, it's emotional. The longer you live with this monster of a disease, the more friends you will lose. People are constantly questioning why I continue to be friends with other lung cancer people and form such tight bonds when we all know the emotional risk we are taking.

What many don't understand is that they don't understand. I know that doesn't seem to make sense, but it does. My lung cancer community understands the struggles, emotional turmoil, and constant PTSD we endure every day. We can openly talk about it and we can lean on each other in times of disappointment, fear, and loss.

My answer to the question "how are you?"

My body can heal from what I've been through. It will never be free of cancer and I will never let go of my people. So when others ask how I'm doing, I let them know I'm great. There are so many of us that aren't great right now. I just tell them how I am physically, not mentally. Nothing can prepare you for the losses you will endure the longer you live.

Sometimes, deep down, I secretly envy those who have gone ahead. They have no more pain, tears, worry or loss. They are free. I don't want to die, but I'm not afraid. I'm looking forward to the day I too can be free.