The Wake-up Call of Cancer

                                                         First visit with my granddaughter                                                                                                                             after cancer diagnosis. 

       We all know people who have had cancer, the second leading cause of death in the U.S. We know people who have survived, and we know people who have died. Still, cancer is an abstract concept - until it becomes all too concrete.

       I never thought cancer would seek me out. After all, I live a healthier lifestyle than the average American. I've never smoked a cigarette in my life. No one in my immediate family has had cancer other than the skin cancer we all asked for when we baked in the sun all through the fifties and sixties. 

       My only risk factor is age. And yet, just five weeks ago I was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Suddenly I experienced the same wake-up call as have millions of others. I have written about many wonderful "bridges to oneness" but now I am part of a bridge "club" I had never hoped to join.

       When the diagnosis was first received, the idea of having cancer was abstract.  I wondered how this will affect my life, and how much longer is my life going to be? Should I sign up for invasive treatments, or should I gracefully accept whatever is to come and start writing farewell notes to my loved ones?

       My first thought was that, since I have no fear of death, and I have lived a good and full life, why should I put myself through the travails of chemotherapy? Then came the wake-up call: this isn't just about me. How can I leave my husband alone? As he quotes from the Fleetwood Mac song, "I've built my life around you."  I picture him at our breakfast table, all alone, and it breaks my heart. 

      My daughter is crying on the phone, my son is at a loss for words, but wants to visit ASAP. They come the first weekend after my diagnosis. It was the first time our original family of four has been together since partners and grandchildren were added. They look at the scrapbook of my life that I put together four years ago. We share a lot of memories, love, and hugs. It is a time of healing. A time for gratefulness. 

       I had my first chemo treatment a week ago. We'll see how it goes. The diagnosis is less abstract now that I've had numerous procedures and started treatment. I recognize the wake-up call of cancer is to cherish each moment with loved ones, not knowing when it will be the last. We all live with the realization that death comes to everyone, we know not when or how. But cancer makes that knowledge more concrete. Not just that it's going to happen someday, but that it's likely to happen sooner than later. 

       The perks of cancer, and yes, there are some - are that my family is making the effort to spend as much time with me as possible. They are more affectionate, more attentive, and more generous with their love. Extended family and friends are showering me with kindness, love, and prayers. My illness is opening a floodgate of love into the world. Perhaps this will be my final gift to humanity before I embark on the next adventure.