He had no signs of cancer. He was N-E-D for the longest time. Along with his cancer-free status came the freedom from chemotherapy and radiation.
He was a full-on Dad again and a husband and sitting in the mower, riding around the yard was fun! Life was almost back to normal.
We all know it never really gets back to what it was before that “You have cancer” day, but it can get pretty darn close.
So now it’s changed again, because that sneaky, stealth-like disease has shown itself in places that are not good.
The smiles and laughter and good-life times have been replaced by those cancer-lines that run across the forehead.
The doctors are on it. They’ve found the latest meds that are showing decent results, but it’s too early to tell if these drugs can hunt down and destroy enough of these bad cells.
The whistle has blown and the support team that has always been by his side has rallied once again, so the family is being cared for: can’t beat the “lifting.”
I cringe when I hear this: we all know how hard these whiplashes in cancer are on a patient and family.
Hope is what keeps us together. Hope is our co-pilot.