Tag Archives: ALK+ lung cancer

And the overcome

Because we all need a can-do story now and again.

So. If the part fourteen years have taught me anything, it’s how to power through. Not saying that such an approach is 100% effective but then again, sometimes scrappiness and un utter lack of hesitation is key.

My son Peter and I have our inside version of the joke is on the universe (not us). It goes like this: ‘It’s impossible, now let’s do it.’ Oh, and we have. Both alone and together.

A couple of prime examples. When I began my first clinical trial in October of 2008, I was three months into ‘you have three to five months left to live’. In other words, officially a dying woman. I also lived up past Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire, a good two and one half hours from the hospital without traffic. I drove myself both to and from the hospital in the same day for all of my trial visits. And yes, I was married at the time and it wasn’t until much later that I would feel angry about the fact that I made those trips alone. However, more importantly, I did it. And, of note, I am no longer married 😉

Getting Peter into private school was a monumental effort as well. I was going through chemo and I would lay on the couch as he wrote essays and then when I was feeling better, we would go on tours and interviews. When he got into Phillips Exeter Academy it was an immense sense of accomplishment. And when it was time for him to apply for college, we repeated this routine, as I would go and hang out in his room at PEA while he wrote, just to offer support. Of course, it was his own academic prowess that got him into MIT.

When I left my marriage, I was post chemo and pre lorlatinib, my health again failing. Some close friends helped me move the heavier items but I drove the 26 foot truck myself—a first. The day it was due to be returned I had one more load and a seemingly impossible deadline but I simply told myself that failure was not an option and I got the job done.

Of course, some situations truly would be impossible without assistance. I own a little airstream trailer, and the parking lot here at the lofts is being hot topped. That meant I had to move my trailer but when August and I tried to hook up the hitch, we discovered the mechanism was rusted into place. One of my neighbors suggested that if we got enough people, perhaps we could simply lift the the hitch onto the ball. So, the next day, we did just that. Six people lifted a 3500 pound trailer by the hitch, gently placing it on the ball of my truck as I deftly (yes, deftness was mandatory, failure not an option) inched it into place at just the right moment. Not probable, but possible.

Where do I go from here

It’s an interesting question contingent upon several prepositions.

See, I have a problem and the fact that it is a good problem (all things considered), makes it no less daunting. It would appear that I am going to live. Appear being the supposition here, as one can never be too sure. However, if the current trend continues, well, than I have at least a rather immediate future.

This is not something I planned on.

Nope. Stability is a concept I am only beginning to embrace. However, keep in mind, it remains a contingent, suppositional stability. Which is about the same degree of stability that one would experience sleeping in a tree.

Here are the basic facts. I am fifty-eight, almost fifty-nine years old. I am currently in fabulous physical shape but remain in treatment for advanced–aka terminal–lung cancer. That treatment has proved remarkably effective and although my cancer is not gone (70% response) it is gone enough. Better yet, I’ve had a sustained response to my current therapy–four years, three months and counting. The rub? At the moment, this is the end of the road for me–treatment-wise. When (do I dare say if?) this one fails, there is no other. Been there, done that as each time I’ve started a new treatment it has been with the understanding that there were not yet any others. Medical science has thus far managed to keep apace with my cancer but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t weigh on me–life with limited options.

So, there’s that. Cancer. And then there are the side effects of treatment. In my own case, the most debilitating have been the cognitive issues. When it comes to short term memory, I’ve got shit for brains. My own children were skeptical of the severity of my issue. That is, until my son August tried to teach me something. It took his repeating directions countless times and finally writing it down as well before I caught on. This concerned him enough he shared his experience with his younger brother and now I think they both have a little better understanding of what I face.

And although I am not nearly as anxious as I once was (perhaps an inadvertent blessing that goes with loss of short term memory), I am incredibly worried about finances.

I may be one of the few people with terminal lung cancer who does not qualify for disability. This is due to the number of years that had elapsed (stay at home mom) between my last paycheck and diagnosis. Alimony is my income; in an amount insufficient to actually get by and so each month my credit card bill steadily grows. And those checks stop arriving fifteen months and three weeks from yesterday.

I have started reading the classifieds looking for gainful employment. Unfortunately, my own work history is heavy on waitressing, with some other odd jobs mixed in. And although my work in advocacy should qualify me for something better, I am terrified that my short term memory issues are going to make any job difficult to maintain.

Take a deep breath. These are good problems to have.

I

can

do

this.