It's not quite 7am, March 24th, 2011
I am writing this while in the air between KC and Atlanta as I make my fifth trip to see the Oncologist running the prostate cancer clinical trial in which I am participating.
I currently find my mind wandering to a place I've been successful in avoiding since I was diagnosed six years ago. The place I refer to is of course 'worry'. I worry when and if this current treatment will begin working. Time will tell and by late Friday or Monday morning I'll have the answer I both seek and fear.
This rant is the part I suspect is the hardest for people to understand. Perhaps I'm to blame for not spending enough time on it here. To me worry is whining. That is likely not a very good attitude to take, but I question if there is another better attitude to fight this fight with? My emotions are all over the place as you can probably tell.
I have options beyond this current medication but they are not the greatest. Two involve a return to chemo. One of the chemo options, though recently approved for use in cases like mine, is once again not a cure. There are several drugs in an earlier trial stage then my current treatment, but those become a matter of logistics since none are available in Kansas City.
Beyond the selfish worries my thoughts turn to my family, instigating additional worries. My son, being fourteen, is at a critical stage in his life. He's about to start high school and with that his world, challenges, experiences and such are set to grow exponentially. I want to be there as he matures through his high school years. Then there is Mary. Twenty-four years ago she came into my life. She is everything to me, my best friend, my confidant my heart and my soul.
We've known for six years that our dreams of a lifetime together, of spending our retirement years together were in serious jeopardy. There are times like these when it really doesn't matter that we may have discussed the changes to our grand plan, worry, pain, and mental anguish are at the forefront of my mind today. I'm hesitant to even type the words 'I want it all to go away' simply because those words ring of denial. It is what it is. I have stage IV prostate cancer, I'm struggling through a temporary funk, but I'll come out on the other side alive, mentally stronger and a better person for having gone through this experience.
A very good friend, Dr. S. and I discussed the power of the 'Serenity Prayer' once, the discussion is quite clear to me, like it was yesterday. As I write this from 33,000 feet I had to pull the prayer card that Mary had gotten me from my wallet and recite it three times. It gives me comfort right now and I would like to share it with you...
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at at time,
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did,
this sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it,
trusting that He will make things right
if I surrender to His will.
That I may be reasonably happy in this life,
and supremely happy with Him,
forever in the next.