Monday, March 20, 2017

CC17: Thank You

Since the beginning of ABSOT, I’ve used Saturdays to let others share their feelings about my diagnosis. Today, it’s my turn to give thanks.

To Dr. Maurer, Nurse Jenn, and my healthcare team at HOAF -

Chemo is not a fun time. Period. However, you all made it as enjoyable as possible. Even on days that I wasn’t feeling great, especially when I was both the youngest and the most vomit-producing patient, each of you made me feel comfortable.

I liked getting to chat with you about my life and hearing about yours. Some of those conversations are not fit for publishing here, but they put a smile on my face. That’s perhaps the best part of being a patient with you all - I felt like you got to know me as a person first and a cancer patient second.

Being a cancer patient was still a huge part of our relationship. When I experienced a setback, of which there were many, you were there with advice and medicine to help me get over that hurdle. Ringing the bell at the end was a bittersweet feeling. I was glad to be done with the treatments, but I wouldn’t get to see you guys daily. However, I’ll be sure to stop in soon. Thank you for the best medical care and your friendship.

To my mom -

This is what happens when you take
selfies on my phone without permission
I’m not the world’s easiest son to deal with (though I am the world’s best son). I’ve always known how to push your buttons and drive you to the brink of insanity, but I know you are always there for me no matter what. When I told you that I might have cancer, your first words were, “What can I do to help?” Even though I live three states south, you were willing to come down to care for me for as long as I needed during surgery recovery and later chemo. Whether it was driving me for treatment, cleaning up my vomit, or doing my laundry, you did whatever I asked without complaining and with great compassion.

Words can’t express how appreciative I am of your visits down here, although I wish they were under different circumstances. You happen to be here this weekend, and it’s the first time we’ve seen each other since finishing chemo. As I type this on Thursday evening, I’m sure it’s a wonderful time. I’ve saved my laundry for you to do, if you’re in the mood (for old time’s sake).

Thank you for all you did for me. I really feel like we got to bond while I was out of commission and I’m glad we did. I will truly never be able to repay you for what you did for me. However, I promise when you get old and senile that I will put you in a slightly nicer home than I was planning on before going through cancer. I love you.

To Mallory -

Cancer was, and remains, one of your biggest fears. It’s touched your life in many terrible ways, and you have a right to fear it. Your view of cancer is probably what prompted me to take that initial lump more seriously than I may have if we were not together. Thank you for that awareness.

Despite you trying to do everything possible to prevent it, cancer was in our home. I know it must have terrified you, but your strength through it amazed me. You managed to care for me, our pets, the house, and yourself all at the same time (with help from my mom). I knew I could be vulnerable with you and you would be there for me as my rock.

It’s a cliche and sort of weird thing to say, but cancer strengthened our relationship. It helped show us what is important, and it’s not arguing over whose turn it is to do dishes (plot twist: it’s always yours). What matters is being there for each other all the time, no matter what. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I know that together we will do great things, and this experience has helped bring us closer as a couple. I love you.

To my other family and friends -

I know I am doing a disservice by not individually thanking each of you, but there are far too many people I need to thank to properly do it justice. From diagnosis to remission, I received a ton of support in various ways: texts, calls, emails, gifts, cards, food, and so much more. (And Dad, your endless ball-related puns always put a begrudging grin on my face, while Kyle's asking if I was ready for Mexican masked wrestling brought a confused smile to my face.) Each showing of care helped me tremendously in my healing process.

Oftentimes, a simple “How are you doing?” was the greatest gift you could give me (although Deadpool pajamas are pretty awesome too). Hearing that you were sharing my story and helping to spread awareness was an even better feeling, especially when Courtney told me she was making this year's "Strike Out Cancer" softball game dedicated to testicular cancer and me. You all helped me make my cancer bigger than just my own battle.

I had a great support team in all of you. Some of you have known me my whole life, some have been in my life for a few years, and some I have never met face-to-face. However, each of you played a vital role in my journey. Thank you for the kindness, care, and compassion you showed me in a tough time in life.

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