On the 4th Anniversary.

Princeton Battlefield Park. 6:00 AM

This past Wednesday was the 4^th anniversary of my cancer diagnosis.  I am in remission now (perhaps complete remission).  I think about my cancer experience more than just one day a year, but I do use the yearly milestone to stop and collect my thoughts about my life as I move further and further away from October 26, 2008.

I still remember feeling like I only had months (weeks? days?) left.  With every friend that I lose to cancer, I still wonder why I am still around. As I start to see grey hair coming in, I try to remember that I once envied older people because they got to grow old.

I have become very, very intolerant of activities in my life that seem like a waste of time, that are meaningless.  Knowing that life is a gift that only lasts a brief moment, I have become a cruel editor….slashing whole paragraphs of activities that seem pointless, revising the professional aspects of my life that need more direction, more precision.  Demanding a thesis sentence that pulls my whole life together.  This is a hard way to live.  

Steve Jobs said in his commecment speech,  "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something." 

He gave this message to an audience of young graduates looking for advice, but the reality is that it's hard to live a 'Steve Jobs' life. 

I must say that my family continues to ground me. I find so much satisfaction in the simple pleasures of home. While I often get frustrated and stressed about balancing my personal and professional life, my family is the metronome that gives me a regular and steady beat against the chaos and cacophony of work. At the end of the day (make that 'at the end of each day'), I kiss Emma goodnight and I see why I am still around. My family needs a mother, wife and daughter.  

As a result of reading several books on health and nutrition, we have made several lifestyle changes as a family. We are eating less meat and more fruits and veggies.  I have been sort of good about exercising, but I have fallen off my routine now since moving to Princeton.  I can't exercise on my treadmill in a closet like I used to in Austin. (I close my eyes. It's like meditation.)  I am very aware of the importance of sleep for good health, but I still struggle in that area. 

All of these lifestyle changes have made a difference on my health. My oncologist, internist and pulminologist were all very pleased with my last round of labs tests/CT scans.  Not knowing exactly why or how non-Hodgkins Lymphoma cells started multiplying in my liver, I try to give my body everything it needs to prevent them from returning. I am thankful that four years ago, we attacked these carcinogenic cells with the strongest, most powerful form of chemotherapy (Rituxan) cleared by the FDA.  I would do it again if necessary.

Princeton Battlefield Park 6:03 AM

Here is a quote that seems to make the rounds in survivor circles.  It summarizes how I feel about cancer survivorship.

"Cancer changes your life, often for the better. You learn what’s important, you learn to prioritize, and you learn not to waste your time. You tell people you love them. My friend Gilda Radner (who died of ovarian cancer in 1989 at age 42) used to say, ‘If it wasn’t for the downside, having cancer would be the best thing and everyone would want it.’ That’s true. If it wasn’t for the downside." ~Joel Siegel on American Morning, CNN, June 13, 2003