My Grandma

Knowing that death is inevitable does not make facing death easier. Death felt so real when my grandma passed away this week. She was a good-natured, open minded, healthy, and active woman who loved to tease her grandkids. A few months back, she acknowledged her longevity; bravely declaring that at 97 years old, she was at peace with letting go when the time comes. That time came a few days ago. And while she was ready to go, it is still hard to accept the void in my life even knowing that she had an impressive and fulfilling life.  Despite the emptiness, her passing inspires me to reach that peaceful state when my time comes.
 

What's next?

My most recent scan showed that the tumors were growing after 2 months of Crizobtinib. Every time a chemo treatment stops having an effect on cancer, I panic and think about the people I love that I have to leave or the things I want to do before I go. My doctor suggested that even though the drug did not shrink the tumors, it might possibly slow the growth rate. He recommended that I stay on Crizobtinib until another possible option is available. I'm unclear as to how long this process will be. There's no waiting in cancer. Everything gets worse with waiting. So I have an appointment with my previous doctor to explore possible clinical trials at his hospital. Hopefully, there will be a useful trial for me soon. The wait is tough. The longer I wait for the next treatment, the more pain I feel in my body.

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Update - I was unable to get into any clinical trials, because of my seizures. A bit of a downer, but thankfully there was one chemotherapy that my previous doctor thought of. I started on Cyramza and Docetaxel. Hopefully it will be a good combination. 

Survival Rate

My friend told me that her father-in-law had lung cancer. She wanted to know what his chances of survival are. I felt that knowing the rate is depressing and might not even apply to him. Everyone is different and special in their own way. No one wants to be just a number. When I was first diagnosed during Thanksgiving of 2011, I googled my chances of surviving - 8 months was pretty slim and 5 years was even slimmer. I don't know if I'm going to be that 1%, but it doesn't matter. I can't spend my life crying about my death. What matters is the present, because that's the only place I can be in. So I have to enjoy ever moment of it and make it count. I hope he does too.