It's not the cancer; it is the uncertainty.
When I awake in the morning (ok, sometimes afternoons), I am thankful. Thankful for another day. Thankful for the chance to make plans I hope to, but may never, achieve. I frequently review my "retirement portfolio" and think I really need to hammer away at this thing and get it as full as I can. Mostly because I know it is not for me. It is to provide for my family for as long as I can once I am gone. When I was first diagnosed, my first thoughts upon hearing the news from the Dr. about "2-3 years. probably" was to consider stopping my contributions towards my retirement, as it appeared I had no chance of reaching retirement. Since God has been so merciful to renew the relationship with my wife, the opposite is true: contribute as much as I can now so she and the kids will have something when I depart.
It's not the cancer; it is the fatigue.
Everyday is a minor battle. Getting out of bed starts the volley of enemy artillery. I just want to lay back down and stay there. Once I am up and moving I still have to fight the urge. At work, I watch the clock knowing that home and the comforts of the beanbag/couch/comfy chair/bed await me. A chance to let go and slip quietly into the peaceful bliss of sleep. I just wish my body didn't ache so much and make me feel years beyond my age.
It's not the cancer; it is the fear.
I admit it. I am scared. Very scared sometimes. I am not afraid to die, that is covered and I am secure in that knowledge. I am afraid to leave my wife and children behind. I want to be there to provide for them, to protect them. I want them secure as they can be. I don't want them to be without me. Selfishly, I don't want to leave them, now that it seems as though we will all shortly be back together again. I want that time. All of it and much, much more. I want to walk baby girl down the aisle at her wedding. I want to watch them graduate college. I want to help them get through tough life lessons. I want to hold my grand babies. And I am in NO hurry to do any of those things.
It's not the cancer; it is the chance for God to teach me.
Through all of this, I know there is a lesson for me, or perhaps, for others. What it is yet, I haven't a clue. There are many phrases that appear on motivational posters or cute little graphics, such as "God will never lead you where His grace will not sustain you," and "You never know how strong you are until you need to be." There is also the potential lesson of grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness which I hope my renewed relationship with my wife will display to others. I know this will not all be for nothing; as Margaret Becker sang in the 80's, "It's never for nothing." (Song really doesn't apply to the situation, just like it and the title) Whatever the final lesson turns out to be, I hope I have mastered the topic.
Thank you all for allowing me to vent some. I appreciate your patience and wish you all well.