Wonderful Stranger

A few days ago, we went to a small french takeout restaurant, which had only 2 outdoor picnic tables. We ordered our lunch and decided to eat outside to enjoy the weather. We sat down by the table adjacent to the kitchen window without realizing that the smoke escaping would make it hard for me to breath. My friend thought we could ask the woman sitting in the other table if we could switch seats with her.

I didn't want to push it, but she inched towards the woman and asked if we could switch seats.
Woman: Why do you want to switch seats?
Friend: Because we don't want to smell the kitchen smoke.
Woman: So why would you think I want to smell the smoke?

It was a reasonable question that caught us slightly off guard. In an effort to be considerate to me, my friend just seem like a jerk. After an awkward moment, I walked over to the woman and told her my condition.  I explained that my friend wasn't trying to be a jerk. She was just looking out for me, but also didn't want to divulge any personal information. M said he could see her melt. She said she was having a tough day, because her friend is dying of pancreatic cancer. After an emotional hug, she gladly gave up her seat. After our lunch, I walked over to her and thanked her again. We hugged again. She wished me the best and said she'll send over lots of good thoughts.

My prognosis

When I received my diagnosis, I was so shocked, because as a relatively young healthy non-smoker with no family history of cancer, lung cancer was not in my radar. However, breast cancer was in my radar, because there's a good amount of marketing for their cause. I told M's mom that I hope to bring that same level of awareness to lung cancer when I get better. She said, why wait til you get better? Why not now? I thought about it for a while. I don't really know when/if I'll be free of cancer, so why wait.

My friend, L, accelerated my involvement in battling lung cancer community-wise. She found a not-for-profit organization, Lungevity (www.lungevity.org/), dedicated to eradicating lung cancer and supporting those impacted by lung cancer.  Lungevity was more than willing to assist us in heightening awareness in the Asian community.

We joined Lungevity's committee and decided to bring the Asian community to Lungevity's annual walk, Breathe Deep NYC on  October 21, 2012.  (http://events.lungevity.org/site/TRteam_id=27440&pg=team&fr_id=3450&et=VH0HvERQyxlIkWzea3apKA&s_tafId=18190). Being a  leader in at least two major Asian organizations, L would be able to reach out to Asians.

Being a patient at MSK, I offered to reach out to lung cancer patients. Last week I went in to MSK for my immunotherapy and to help market Breathe Deep. I grew antsy waiting for my  treatment only to realize that I won't get my treatment anymore. Unfortunately, the most recent CT scan showed disease progression. The trial drug had been tolerable, but the "good" days seem to have come to an end.

The doctor suggested that before we revert back to one of the harsher chemo treatments, I should try Tarceva daily for a month. The two main side effects are  diarrhea and face rashes. I'm not sure which is worse -  diarrhea or nausea. I guess we'll see. I felt like I was losing this fight. All I could do was look at M and cry. I want to grow old with him, but now I'm not sure if that was possible.

My mind was swirling with mortality, until I remembered that I was suppose to talk to my nurse about marketing for Breathe  Deep. I shook off the mortality thoughts momentarily and asked her if MSk would market this event. The nurse was familiar with Breathe Deep and offered to help.

I don't know what my prognosis is, but I felt better knowing the war against lung cancer will be promising with wonderful, compassionate, and inspiring people around me.

The BAM! Effect

I can be a clutz sometimes. I would be excited about seeing something outside the window and then BAM! I would hit my forehead on the window not realizing it was closed. Or I would walk out of a restaurant and then BAM! I would walk right into glass door. Strangely, I feel like that's life with cancer. I would be living my life carefree, happy, then BAM! A pain or side effect from treatment would hit me out of the blue.

The other day I was shopping for everyday home supplies. I had some hip pain, but nothing too overwhelming. As I was walking down the aisle, my knee suddenly buckled from weakness. I made it home okay, but the weak knee caught me off guard. Mainly, it's because I don't think about cancer much. I sometimes even forget about it, but events like these are a reminder that I'm physically not who I used to be. It's a reality check. It keeps happening, because I keep reverting back to my daydreaming ways. But I'd rather have reality mini-shocks and keep doing what I'm doing, than constantly think about what cancer might prevent me from doing.