I’d like you to meet Heather. She’s a mum. She’s a survivor. A survivor of cancer. That horrible word, that sends shivers down your spine. Here is some of her story.
I was never one to sit around and mope. Life was for living and I intended experience as much as I could. Be careful what you wish for, they say. At 36, with a three and a half month old, baby girl, I got the experience of a lifetime. I was diagnosed with the “Big C.”
I’ll never forget that morning. It was slightly overcast and cold; just how cold I would soon discover. It’s funny. I remember the date, November 21st, 2005, but the memories of most of the day’s events still elude me. I remember the doctor saying, “You have cancer” but then it gets blurry.
The diagnosis actually specified malignant pleural mesothelioma, a cancer of the lining of the lungs. The choices were few. Give up, await my fate and curse the God who given me life or fight. For my sake and the sake of my little girl, I chose the latter.
For the unaffected, it is hard to imagine that any good can come from a cancer diagnosis.
Nevertheless, I chose to change the priorities of my life. Spending time with my little girl, my family and friends shot to the top of my list. This included my new friends, the ones who also had mesothelioma or other cancers.
Shortly after the diagnosis, I met with a fantastic doctor, a mesothelioma specialist. Although he informed me that they would have to remove one of my lungs, he was remarkably upbeat. It was a truly remarkable display of bedside manner that I will never forget. He gave me hope and hope has amazing powers.
Groundhog Day, February of 2006, and I headed to surgery for the removal of ‘Phil.” Phil was the name I had given the tumor and, in its honor, we renamed the day, LungLeavin’ Day.
The surgery proved a great success, as you can tell,since I am still here and writing this post. Life is good and every year is a gift. I celebrate with family and friends, old and new, every February, on LungLeavin’ Day.
It’s no grand occasion but it does celebrate the human spirit and what it can accomplish in the face of adversity. It also celebrates hope, that great naysayer that defies the inevitable logic of cancer. Hope springs eternal, they say. I know only this. When hope is all you have, it is often enough.
You can read more from Heather on her blog, or twitter @CancerAlliance.
