The Race to Live Again

Well here it is, my final entry as this week's guest blogger.

I've done my best to relay my experiences, lessons learned and humble wisdom throughout the week by showing you a glimpse of what I felt during the process and how I feel today. Each day has featured a different portion of the experience starting with the initial diagnosis and progressing to surgery and treatment and beyond. I've been able to summarize each leg of the journey with a moral or theme, but for today's final instalment, I'm afraid all I can do is tell you that I'm still trying to make sense of it all.

If you're fortunate enough to have a skilled medical team, a strong and loving family, supportive friends and an understanding employer and ultimately wind up where I am today then there is no better bit of advice than; savour the moment and make the most of your time on this planet.

Sound advice for anyone really, but it can be taken to extremes for those who survive this type of lift-altering event. So while I'm still very much at a loss to make sense of the entire story, I have become aware that it's important to pace yourself.

Cancer survivors and no doubt anyone who has survived a serious trauma may feel an increased desire to make up for lost time. To make every decision count. To do something grand. To live and love to the fullest and to leave a legacy. These are all laudable ambitions but it's important to remember that a lifetime is measured in little moments not in grand gestures and not a single one of us gets to choose how we'll be remembered.

Let me recap my own experience...

I was diagnosed with synovial cell sarcoma in my head and neck last May. The surgery involved cutting a line down the centre of my chin, along the jaw line and on to my right ear. Then the bone was cut in the middle so that my jaw could be split in two, allowing my surgeon access to tumour. The original plan was to have me sewed up and on the road to recovery within a few weeks. What happened next surprised everyone except me. Post operative pathology revealed the tumour was a fairly aggressive type of cancer meaning I would have to undergo radiation as quickly as possible. It's the last thing anyone wants to hear but perhaps more difficult than the news itself was having to share it with loved ones. It's difficult to tell those who care about you that you're facing such a difficult battle because in the end, those closest to you will have to fight it as well and I hate to be a burden. Everyone was shocked but steadfast in their support of me and my fight. Anything less than resounding success wasn't even considered a possibility. We would beat this together and that was the end of the debate.

The recovery from surgery was long and frustrating. It left me with very limited mobility in my jaw making it difficult to eat. Then radiation began and what tissue hadn't been damaged by the surgery was ravaged by the lethal rays shot through my body. My sense of taste vanished, the muscles hardened and my voice changed. After six weeks of treatment and some decidedly unhappy days, I was relieved to begin the real recovery stage. From that point on, I would be extra vigilant in matters of health. I would exercise more, eat better and reduce my exposure to stress. As much as my life may have been irreversibly altered, it would go on.

And that brings us back to the present. You see, I decided that not only would my life go on, but it would mean more. I had to extract every possible ounce of "living" out of my life to ensure that I would have no regrets if my health was ever threatened again. I made ambitious new career plans, expanding my existing role in media to one I hope will be much more challenging in the near future. I proposed to my beautiful girlfriend, ensuring that not one more day would pass without making her aware of how much I love her. I made a promise to speak more opening with family and friends about emotions so that no conversation was ever left unfinished. I made a pledge to give more back to the community which had so unexpected supported me. That decision led me to getting involved with the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation and in addition to this I am planning more volunteer work and acts of philanthropy. I'm making plans to travel more, compromise less and to go to bed proud of myself each and every day.

But that's a lot of pressure to bear and as I soon discovered, it's unrealistic to expect that everyday will be memorable and exciting. There's no question that surviving a trauma helps to refocus the mind but it doesn't leave you with super powers. You must remember that above all else, you're still a human being.

Once I realised that I had created unrealistic expectations I also realised that it was all just a coping mechanism. Subconsciously I had given myself a long list of busy-work to take my mind off the fact that I didn't fully recognize the man looking at me in the mirror. He looked frail and uncertain and any attempt to convey independence and confidence was betrayed by a very visible scar that ran down the centre of his face. I realised I had lost a part of myself in the process of fighting my cancer and I thought I might never get it back. All the optimism in the world would never make me whole again. All the goals and ambitions couldn't change the fact that my mortality was as plainly obvious as the nose on my face.

But I've discovered that what matters more is that I have gained far more than I lost. My respect for the humanity of others increased tenfold thanks to the unprecedented generosity and support of my family and friends. My profound admiration for the dedication and selflessness of the medical community inspired me to be a better person. My newfound appreciation for the fragility of life prompted me to tell those around me how I feel and it focused my motivation on achieving my goals. The experience taught me that for all I had lost, I had still been given some precious gifts to share. The power of positive thinking is now more important to me than ever but not in the sense that we humans have special healing abilities. No, the power of my positive thinking pushes me to leave the world a bit better than I found it because we are all fighting the battle of our lives every day. There will always be those who face challenges greater and smaller than you or me. None of us know what lies ahead and the beauty of this thing called life is how much more precious it can become once you are aware of how fragile it is.

My battle with cancer continues. It is no more and no less relevant than any other battle, but it has taught me to live in the present, to love more and to work harder. I have the luxury of working in a position that grants me a louder voice than others. I am a radio broadcaster and as such I will advocate for others who can't speak as loudly. I am a young man and as such, I will work hard to achieve my goals while doing my best to lead by positive example. I am engaged to a beautiful woman and as such I will honour her until my last breath. I am a good friend who has received the love of good friends and as such I will be there to return the favour whenever it might be needed. My battle with cancer continues and it makes me stronger everyday. Courage is founded in belief that you are doing the right thing. Working together to fight cancer, supporting each other and learning from the experience are all good things.

For whatever reason you've come here to read these blogs I hope they have given you something useful. Good luck to you and yours.