The Most Beautiful Person I Never Met

The cancer world is a strange one. It reluctantly connects you by unfortunate circumstance to some of the most wonderful people in this world. I never met Carin in person, but she felt like a soul sister. We were connected by my sister-in-law who happens to be best friends with Carin's childhood best friend from Maine. Confusing, right? Well, Carin and I became woven together through these friendships and cancer about a year and a half ago as we were both undergoing clinical trials at Dana Farber Cancer Institute. We were email buddies, sharing gains and frustrations. We'd say we were our therapy for each other. We kept hoping our paths would eventually cross through our treatment, but they never did. Carin died at the end of May in 2013. I was shocked because in the last email exchange two weeks prior I would not have predicted the quick deterioration. She was hopeful. She said she thought things were going in the right direction. But the cancer world is a strange one. It would also claiming the life on my high school friend just a month later. In the sad irony of all this Carin's legacy lives on through the people who love her. People who, like Carin, just want to spread joy to others. Taking on new life is the Carin MacLean Foundation, helping people with cancer through some of the financial burdens that come with illness. The foundation just hosted its first annual walk-a-thon in September and was able to help an incredibly deserving family! Much to my surprise, I was contacted a few weeks ago about being the next recipient. My first instinct was to say no. As many of you know, since my diagnosis in 2010, I have been blessed in many financial ways that is seems absolutely unfair to accept anything more. But I have come to accept because it's Carin. She'd be pissed if I didn't. I will do exactly what I think she would do with any of the proceeds. Things we talked about. Carin, I kept every single one of your emails. I miss my therapy sister as my cancer is advancing. How ironic that you are still comforting me through your foundation. The cancer world is a strange one.

Back To The Drawing Board

Yes, it's been a while since I have updated this blog. I guess when other people have endured pain far worse than what I am going through, it really put life in perspective. I couldn't write after my friend Kelly died. It didn't seem right. I was given a wonderful experimental drug that has kept my cancer away for a year and a half and Kelly was gone. It didn't seem fair. A friend recently convinced me that my story was worth continuing. If nothing else, it is at least therapeutic . . . a way to praise God for what He has given me and to find strength as I continue down this uncertain path. That wonderful drug I referenced is apparently not as smart as cancer. My cancer outplayed, outsmarted and outlasted the drug. It definitely let the wind out of my sails. Sitting in the doctor's office getting the same news time after time can really start to break one down. I try to focus on the positive (as everyone says) but the negative part of the mind certainly has a way of seeping through those positive cracks. But I have hope. I will start a new experimental drug this week. It is literally and figuratively a difficult pill to swallow that I will be on medication for the rest of my life. The past three weeks I have been washing out my old drug in preparation for the next, and it has been so nice to feel "normal" again. I think we underestimate our normalcy. I honestly feel great! It is even hard for me to believe that I have had cancer for nearly five years, and, in spite of how I feel, that son of a ----- is still growing in my body. But if Kelly were me, she'd be so happy. She'd be so happy to just be with her family and friends and living her life to the fullest. So you will not catch me complaining again. I am in fighting mode and ready for the next step.