It seems so weird and awful that life goes on despite the fact that someone I know has this terrible disease and every single thing about her life is changed completely and forever. Her entire family's days now revolve around dealing with her illness and treatment, and around trying to continue living their lives with this awful reality. Meanwhile, I still go to exercise class, still enjoy my friends and family and my work, and life continues to go on without her. People still live and laugh and do whatever they do, and it feels so very sad to me.
I saw Sharon this weekend and she mentioned how much she misses Ginny's classes, misses exercising, and how she hates that her abdomen is swollen like she's pregnant. I would feel exactly the same way -- would want to just carry on with my normal life and do all the things I love to do, pack as much as possible into each day, but suddenly you can't, and probably never will be able to again. It's so so abrupt and final and awful. I feel sick just thinking about it.
Life can be hard, and we go through lots of ups and downs with our families, our kids, our spouses, our jobs, and our friends and their various troubles. But this kind of thing really does put it all in stark perspective. This is my very first experience with someone my own age getting sick like this. I guess that means I've been pretty lucky. I've experienced very little tragedy or early death first hand.
But Sharon seems very calm and positive, as she is about everything, and doesn't seem to be panicking or worrying about rushing to start treatment, taking it one step at the time. I admire that so much. I know she isn't big on organized religion, not sure if she believes in god even, and seems to have that eastern "power of now" kind of approach to life which seems especially wise and helpful and sensible at a time like this. I hope when it's my turn to face this kind of thing, I react the same way.
I've been thinking about this a lot, and when my time is up I want to just be grateful for the incredible, lucky, healthy, trauma and tragedy-free life I've led, with my family and all my friends, my work and travels and adventures, marriage and kids and experiences. I've lost my dad but still have my mom, I have all my siblings, I have my husband and three healthy almost-grown daughters who are strong enough now to stand on their own. Who would all be absolutely OK if something happened to me. That is a good feeling, and I realize for the first time in my life that I don't fear death like I used to. No longer believing in god doesn't make it more difficult at all. I'm not afraid. Something about this tragic experience has helped me to realize that, and it's a great thing to know.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Friday, May 04, 2007
Terrible Randomness of Fate
I found out last night that a friend and former neighbor, who has a daughter my daughte Nickie's age, 17, and a son two years younger, has pancreatic cancer that has spread to her liver and abdomen. She's 47 years old, is Japanese American and has always had a really healthy diet, never smoked, barely drinks, and is one of the most disciplined exercisers I know, and always has been. She has NONE of the risk factors, which makes it all the more horrible and incomprehensible.
Her husband, who is not quite 50, is a great guy who had prostate cancer and surgery this year, which was its own trauma. But he recovered and they were moving forward. He's in the foreign service, and they moved to our neighborhood many years ago, renting from another foreign service family at the top of our street. My kids were homeschooling at the time, and when they heard there were new kids on the block, they made a welcome basket of cookies and knocked on their door. Sharon told me that was a particularly tough move (foreign service families usually have to move to new posts overseas and back every few years) and her kids were having a hard time. She said the girls showing up was like angels on the doorstep, that it really turned things around for her kids and she would always be grateful for that. She is an incredible mother, an amazing cook, a funny, fun, kind and levelheaded person, a schoolteacher. Loyal, solid, hardworking, full of integrity.
Nickie became good friends with Laura, and visited the family in Budapest for two weeks when she was 14. Like Nickie, Laura will be leaving for college in the fall, but under extremely different and difficult circumstances now, which is just heartbreaking to think about.
My father and grandfather both died of pancreatic cancer when they were 60. Once it spreads, the prognosis is three to six months. Chemotherapy can improve the symptoms, which include severe abdominal pain, but doesn't stop the cancer. Early detection is the key, but almost never happens because when someone first becomes aware of the pain, it is usually too late.
I couldn't sleep thinking about Sharon, and about how random and WRONG and devastating this is. It's so upsetting to all of us who exercise with her in Ginny's classes in the neighborhood, because she is the poster child of healthy living. If this is happening to her, all of our efforts to be healthy don't protect us either, right?
I got a new road bike and went riding with a group in New York last weekend. My subgroup included two guys who were 79 and 82. They were awesome, incredibly fit and inspirational in their attitudes and enjoyment of life. I thought, "They're 30 years older than I am. Think of all the experiences they've had since they were my age now -- as many as I've had since I was 20!" It was such a clear testament to the power of healthy living.
And now this. Which reminds me once again that life is one big crapshoot. Of course it makes sense to try to be healthy, but that's no guarantee. We are all devastated for our friend, for her family, for our own impending loss of her, but also for the stark reminder that none of us is safe from this kind of news. And we're going to encounter it more and more often in our own age group now. Shocking, scary, sobering and unsettling.
Her husband, who is not quite 50, is a great guy who had prostate cancer and surgery this year, which was its own trauma. But he recovered and they were moving forward. He's in the foreign service, and they moved to our neighborhood many years ago, renting from another foreign service family at the top of our street. My kids were homeschooling at the time, and when they heard there were new kids on the block, they made a welcome basket of cookies and knocked on their door. Sharon told me that was a particularly tough move (foreign service families usually have to move to new posts overseas and back every few years) and her kids were having a hard time. She said the girls showing up was like angels on the doorstep, that it really turned things around for her kids and she would always be grateful for that. She is an incredible mother, an amazing cook, a funny, fun, kind and levelheaded person, a schoolteacher. Loyal, solid, hardworking, full of integrity.
Nickie became good friends with Laura, and visited the family in Budapest for two weeks when she was 14. Like Nickie, Laura will be leaving for college in the fall, but under extremely different and difficult circumstances now, which is just heartbreaking to think about.
My father and grandfather both died of pancreatic cancer when they were 60. Once it spreads, the prognosis is three to six months. Chemotherapy can improve the symptoms, which include severe abdominal pain, but doesn't stop the cancer. Early detection is the key, but almost never happens because when someone first becomes aware of the pain, it is usually too late.
I couldn't sleep thinking about Sharon, and about how random and WRONG and devastating this is. It's so upsetting to all of us who exercise with her in Ginny's classes in the neighborhood, because she is the poster child of healthy living. If this is happening to her, all of our efforts to be healthy don't protect us either, right?
I got a new road bike and went riding with a group in New York last weekend. My subgroup included two guys who were 79 and 82. They were awesome, incredibly fit and inspirational in their attitudes and enjoyment of life. I thought, "They're 30 years older than I am. Think of all the experiences they've had since they were my age now -- as many as I've had since I was 20!" It was such a clear testament to the power of healthy living.
And now this. Which reminds me once again that life is one big crapshoot. Of course it makes sense to try to be healthy, but that's no guarantee. We are all devastated for our friend, for her family, for our own impending loss of her, but also for the stark reminder that none of us is safe from this kind of news. And we're going to encounter it more and more often in our own age group now. Shocking, scary, sobering and unsettling.
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