Thriving Past Cancer: Marine's Journey

I've been told to remain in the "present moment," that thoughts of the past will only add sorrow and confusion. However, I can't help but wonder why then do we have the past and future to contend with. If Scrooge learned from his past and future, maybe Charles Dickens was onto something.  Thus, I decided that to strengthen one's resolve one must allow themselves to explore memories from the past. It's unavoidable and necessary. Although it's important to live in the present, I've come to realize that we can't completely ignore the past, but instead we must learn from it. This week, I found myself doing just this. As the school year approaches, my inadvertent return nears, and summer comes to an end, I can't help but wonder whether I will be able to hack it. I know for a fact that I'm a bit slower physically, but my greatest fear is that I'm a bit slower in thought too, thus I may let others down.  So, the memory I'd like to

Last week I couldn't help but research what it was I'd ingested for six months. It was the third week after my last chemo session and although my mind knew it was all over and that I didn't have to go in this last Monday for another chemo infusion, a pattern is a pattern.  Emotionally, I couldn't shake the fear that what I had called a norm for the last six months was not in fact "the norm." I wanted to go hiking with my eldest and swimming with my youngest and the fact that I couldn't meet either of their or my wants was crippling. My eyes were like overflowing wells and my soul trembled like a leaf. The stress was crippling.   So how did I pull myself together? I let it wash over me.  I cried in church this last Sunday as we discussed stress and the people, places, and practices that help us deal with its onslaught. I couldn't tell you why I cried, but I did. Fear of "it" returning? Fear that the end wasn't the end? Fear that I'

After taking 784 oral chemotherapy pills and completing the treatment plan two days ago, I can't help but wonder what exactly I put into my body? The bottle has a label on it. It reads: "Do not touch without gloves." I wore winter gloves whenever taking them, saving my fingertips from blistering. But, I can't help but cringe at the thought that whatever I had ingested damaged my internal organs.  So, I started researching. I needed to know.  To my utter surprise, I discovered that chemotherapy is a byproduct of World War II. It’s origins? Mustard gas. Naval officers that came into contact with this gas suffered toxic reactions within their bone marrow. Two Yale researchers discovered that when this chemical agent was used during the war, cells stopped multiplying. Thus, putting one and one together they realized that they could use it to stop the multiplication of cancerous cells. Soon after this discovery, nitrogen was added to the mustard gas and used to fi

The fourth of July is huge. It commemorates our Independence from tyranny and today as I stand at the brink of reclaiming my Independence, I can't help but take   a minute to pause and reflect on all the parties and celebrations we've thrown on the fourth.   Most fourths we've gathered my husband's family together to break bread, and celebrate the day. We've filled the day with laughter, music, food and fireworks. This fourth is a little different though. It will be my first in a line of many new memories to shape. It comes at a time where I stand before my future path, the past wavering behind, and huge hopes looming ahead. I can't help but connect to those men and women during the reshaping of Colonial America. They too stood at their crossroads, wondering which way to turn to live and be successful, to breathe freely and strive for survival. In a way, the fourth has taken on new meaning this year... A few days before my last cancer treat