One of our Florida friends has cancer. Not the same kind as me, but his has also metastasized. Many of you know him. We were planning a trip to Florida in December and wanted to spend a few weeks, but when a friend goes home on palliative care, you do what you can to encourage them. NOW.
Tim had some free rental days, so we rented a nice car and drove to Florida. We looked at my oncology schedule, and found about a week when we could go between treatments. We got home late last night.
We might not have recognized him had we run into him on the street. The long beard that matched ZZ Top has been replaced by a clean shaven face, thanks to several rounds of chemo and radiation to the neck and head. I believe this is the first time we have ever seen him without facial hair. His appetite has wained. He is thinner, by about 100 pounds. His voice sounds different. He walks a little slower, but he is not bedridden.
In spite of his many physical changes, we can see he’s still the same person. He loves to play games, and he even sat at the table for several hours while the boys fought battles during Axis and Allies. (I went to dinner with the ladies.) After the game, we all reminisced. We went to church together. Played in a band together. Traveled to other countries and did rock concerts. He was our tour guide because of his impeccable memory regarding historical facts. He told a joke (I was the brunt). We all laughed. It was a great night to see our friends and hopefully provide them with a bit of a distraction from every day concerns, anticipatory grief, doctors’ visits, major life-changing decisions, and so forth.
We’ve been there. We are there. We know what it’s like to be told bad news. I am so fortunate the Lord lead me to MD Anderson and a team of specialists who found treatment to keep my body alive years longer than they expected. Not everyone’s body responds to treatment the way mine has. Not all cancers respond the same way. Sometimes treatment options run out. Many times they do. I’m praying our friends find doctors who are willing to try something else to keep going.
While I was talking to his wife, I was reminded of a song I recently heard by Dolly Parton and four other women. It’s a hope for the future where “pink is just another color.” The fact is, the researchers are closer to a cure than they ever have been. That’s what I’m praying for! If you’d like to watch the music video, here’s the link. Have some tissues handy.
We saw lots of friends on this trip, in spite of the brevity. You know who good friends are when they drop what they are doing to see you while you are in town. I wish we could have seen more! Maybe next time sick friends will be feeling better and we’ll have more time to get around town to see the rest.
I just did bloodwork, and now I’m waiting for my chemo appointment. They will infuse Zometa for my bones today, in addition to the normal Herceptin and Perjeta protocol. My oncologist got the blessing from my bone specialist. We try to plan our trips in the three weeks between visits. Tim and I often sit in a café, sip hot tea or Diet Pepsi, eat lunch together, work on projects (mostly separate ones), and bounce ideas off of each other for our next trip to wherever.
It was a quick trip all the way to Florida and back, and I’m so glad we went. We have decided not to question ourselves when the Holy Spirit leads us in a particular direction. Marker on the dry-erase wall calendar has been erased and replaced multiple times. We have learned to be flexible. Cancer does that to you. The process of going through it teaches you so much about living life to the fullest, being flexible, and spending time with the ones you live.
Now, go give your loved ones a hug. ❤️❤️
À la prochaine…hasta la próxima vez…until next time!