Unwavering Hope

I had a meeting this week with the therapist who is affiliated with the cancer center. During our conversation, I confessed to her that if I think too much about my upcoming CT/PET scan I start to panic. She asked me to talk through exactly what it was about the upcoming test that is making me so anxious so that she could better understand. Here is how our conversation went:

Me: "I think the thing that scares me the most is that maybe I am wrong about how my body feels and the scans will actually show that the spot on my liver is cancer. Or even worse, that there will be additional spots that show up."

Debbie: "And what will that mean for you?"

Me: "That the cancer has metastasized."

Debbie: "And what does that mean for you?"

Me: "That there is no hope. That I am going to die."

Debbie: "So in your mind, having metastatic cancer equals death?"

Me: "Yes."

Debbie: "Well, first of all I can tell you that there are many other treatments paths that the doctors can take if the cancer has metastasized. They probably haven't mentioned these to you since it's still premature. But know that there are other things that can be done. And secondly, you need to know that there are many people now who live with metastatic cancer for many years. In many ways, cancer has become more of a chronic disease than a terminal one. In fact, I have one patient who has lived with metastatic cancer for 20 years."

As you can imagine, this conversation was an immense relief to me. Prior to my diagnosis, I had virtually zero experience with cancer. No one in my immediate family has ever had cancer and I only have one good friend who has been affected, and so I don't have any life experiences to draw upon. Needless to say, being able to talk with someone like Debbie -- who has treated cancer patients for over 20 years and has witnessed the gamut of outcomes -- was incredible helpful.

During the week, as I reflected back on our conversation, I came to realize that it was the feeling of "no hope" that was scariest to me. I think that hope is so much more important than people realize and it's something that we take for granted in our everyday lives. There are very few situations in life in which there is truly "no hope" (and for which having "no hope" has such dire consequences!) and so when faced with this possibility, my mind panicked. But what I realized as I processed through the conversation, is that there is absolutely no reason that I should give up hope, regardless of the outcome from my scans. In fact, until the end is truly here...until I am taking my very last breath....until that very last moment of my life, there is no reason to give up hope. And no one can take hope away from me unless I let them!! I came to realize that hope must come from within me -- I cannot expect to get it from the doctors, or from the Internet, or from scans because all of these sources of information are inherently flawed; they are only as good as the latest technology and research. And as I have said before, the things in life that are known are only a small piece of what is unknown.

So I am now forging on toward May 25th (my scan date) with a renewed sense of hope in my heart and an unwavering sense of well-being in my soul.