Words from one of my dearest friends who is fighting cancer. I love her so much it hurts.
I pray for a miracle everyday. Tomorrow she gets her scans.... that miracle would be wonderful tomorrow.
As I sit in this big recliner watching the clock on the wall tick, I am emotionally conflicted. I am planning a wonderfully happy event. I am planning my little boy’s birthday party. He is so excited and I can’t help but be excited for him. Reid is turning 5 this weekend. I never thought I could love something so much. He is funny, frustrating and fantastic at four and contrary to his wishes, I want time to stand still. Like every parent, my heart aches as I realize my baby turned toddler has disappeared…my “big” boy has emerged and is growing by the minute. However, as a mom diagnosed with terminal breast cancer, time has an entirely different meaning to me.
When I was diagnosed with late stage breast cancer in 2005, I was so worried Reid would never know me, much less have me at his side blowing out 5 candles. Ironically, “time” is both my friend and my enemy. Each morning that I wake up, I am so thankful for the time I have with my friends and family. Life is so very good. On the other hand, time is running like sand through my fingers. I am desperate for a cure to this dreaded disease or at least for more medical options to extend my time with Reid. We scan next week to see if my current chemo is working. My tumor markers are up, so there is need for concern. If this chemo is not working, there is only one drug left to try in the current “FDA approved” arsenal. NOW is the time for a cure. If we can put a man on the moon, surely we can figure out a way to stop this madness.
I pray I get the opportunity to plan Reid’s 6th birthday. Actually, I will shoot for the stars and pray that I get to plan his 16th birthday. So it is time to climb out of my big recliner. Chemotherapy is over for today….time to get on with life and on with the party!!"
When I was diagnosed with late stage breast cancer in 2005, I was so worried Reid would never know me, much less have me at his side blowing out 5 candles. Ironically, “time” is both my friend and my enemy. Each morning that I wake up, I am so thankful for the time I have with my friends and family. Life is so very good. On the other hand, time is running like sand through my fingers. I am desperate for a cure to this dreaded disease or at least for more medical options to extend my time with Reid. We scan next week to see if my current chemo is working. My tumor markers are up, so there is need for concern. If this chemo is not working, there is only one drug left to try in the current “FDA approved” arsenal. NOW is the time for a cure. If we can put a man on the moon, surely we can figure out a way to stop this madness.
I pray I get the opportunity to plan Reid’s 6th birthday. Actually, I will shoot for the stars and pray that I get to plan his 16th birthday. So it is time to climb out of my big recliner. Chemotherapy is over for today….time to get on with life and on with the party!!"
