"Cancer? I have Cancer?"
I sat, numb, in complete disbelief, as my doctor explained the findings of the tests he had recently run.
I went to the doctor for what seemed to be a minor ailment. One test lead to another test, and then another, and yet another. Now I was sitting here before my doctor as he explained that I had a treatable, but not curable form of cancer. This cancer would drastically shorten my life.
"Hell Doc, I'm only 47. I eat right, exercise, don't smoke and rarely drink. How can this happen to me?" I questioned. My wife sat in the chair next to me, crying.
He went on to explain that there were no real explanations for the cause of my type of cancer. He also educated me on the cancer, how it is slow growing, wide spreading and very persistent. Normally he would take a "Wait and See" approach to monitor the progression, but due to the extent of the cancer in my body, he wanted to become much more aggressive in combating the disease.
He suggested we start right away and he asked permission to use some experimental drugs to see if we could beat back the cancer to buy me some time. While the experimental drugs would be used in conjunction with already proven drugs, the overall side effects were not fully known. What we did know, however, is that I was at the point where survival without extreme and aggressive treatment was less than a 50/50 chance of making it through the year.
"Let's do it," I told him. My wife nodded her agreement.
The treatments were physically and emotionally draining. Each treatment tore me down more and more, to the point I had no energy or mental drive left. Finally, after 6 months of basically "killing" my body, treatments were done.
"It looks like we got it all for now," my doctor said, with a bit of joy in his voice. "You handled the treatments better than I had hoped. Probably because you were in such good shape when the cancer was discovered," he added. "Now we start the long process of rebuilding your strength and monitoring you for any return of the cancer. My staff and I have now become a permanent part of your life"
At this point you would think that I would be overjoyed, but to tell you the truth, I was ambivalent to how I felt. Due to the severity of the treatments, I was unable to work much of the time I was in treatment, which meant I lost my business in the process. Along with the loss of the business came the loss of my income, which resulting in the foreclosure of our home. On top of all of that, my drive to succeed was gone. I didn't know how I was ever going to recover from this tragedy. Perhaps death would have been easier.
The next several weeks were grueling. I had very little energy and had no desire to do anything. Our world was collapsing around us, financially, and I was unable to do anything about it, or even care.
One morning I woke up and it was as though everything changed. Well, not everything, as financially we were still in the dumps, but my attitude was different. I started to feel "normal" again. Not completely normal, maybe, but definitely better.
This progress continued for several more weeks. Each day I could tell I was feeling better. I started to exercise again and I was mentally ready to go out and try to find a job. I didn't think I had the energy to try to start a business from scratch again, but if I could at least get something to help pay the bills until I could recover, that would be great.
Then the most amazing thing happened. It is still a complete mystery as to how it happened, but it happened.
It was morning and my wife was getting ready to go to her job as a receptionist at an insurance company. She was finishing up "fixing" her hair before she left, when I heard her say something about the need to cut her hair.
"What'd you say, Babe," I called out.
"Nothing," she replied.
I figured she had just been talking to herself so continued getting ready for my day of job hunting, again. (Man this economy sucks)
As she finished her hair, she turned in the mirror, looking herself over one last time. "I'm fat. This looks awful on me. Oh well, I don't have time to change now," I heard her say.
"You're not fat," I responded.
"What?" she said, looking at me with a question mark on her face.
"You're not fat. You look great," I replied.
"Thanks," she said, a bit quizzical.
Then I heard her say something again, only this time I was looking right at her and I did not see her lips move. I stood there, not saying anything, but now I had the quizzical look on my face. I could hear her talking to herself. Her mouth was not moving, but I could hear her speaking loud and clear. It had to be a delusion.
"What's the matter?" she asked as she noticed the look on my face.