Personal Journey Entry # 40

The short answer, of course, is no. Every day you wake up on this cancer journey, you first take stock of any new pains you did not have yesterday. The latest pain in the middle of your chest, you feel your esophagus constrict on your first swallow, the nausea is already boiling up in your gut, you are exhausted before your feet hit the floor, and by the way, those feet and ankles are swollen beyond recognition. Good morning, world. Only a few hours until radiation.

Then reality hits, and you realize how incredibly lucky you are and the many ways that gratitude is making you push through the pain with a smile. We are seven months into this journey, and though I have nine scars on my chest, I still have my esophagus intact. I have faith that the daily dose of radiation is hitting its mark and the chemo is flushing away the remaining cancer cells. I realize the pain is temporary and the price to pay for a second chance at this beautiful life. I close my eyes and thank God, who is always beside me, for the grace and love he has bestowed upon me, and for using this cancer as a tool to make me a better person than I was before this journey began.

I have written about my amazing medical and support teams, and how important they have been in giving me the strength to accept every twist and turn we have experienced. But there is one person who does not get enough credit for their role and who deserves an infinite amount of gratitude and love. That is the one person who has held your hand, kissed you good night and good morning, has tolerated your mood swings, and taken the brunt of your frustration. They have not felt our pain, but we have not felt their fear. They do not have to do the right thing or say the timely word. They just have to be present to assure us that we are never alone on this hellish journey.

My sweet and beautiful Shay has been the perfect partner and has been my rock for the best ten years of my life. Shay has shared her life with me and has hit the pause button on her trip around the sun to make sure that I am healthy and ready to join her at the next station. I had my friend Bruce Marshall play the Kenny Chesney song, “Magic,” at Shay’s 60th birthday party because it is a favorite of hers, but mainly because it describes the life we have together. There is never enough thanks, gratitude, or love to repay Shay for what she has done for me. I try not to use the word “I,” and thank God that he put Shay and me together to form a strong and lasting “we.”

We are going to beat this cancer, Shay, and when we ring the bell at the next stop, we will forget the pain, the fear, the quiet tears in the night, and put our hands together and get ready to enjoy whatever the future holds. Thank you, sweetheart. I love you, Shay, to the moon and back.