Lucky Number 7

I experienced a Christmas miracle this year, yep, a downright honest-to-goodness miracle. My December scans showed resolution in the area of my lung that we were concerned could be progression. All other watched lesions fell within stable parameters and we didn’t need to be concerned just yet with a change in treatment. Christmas Day was spent watching Ben diligently rip the paper off his presents to get to the surprises inside. At ten months old, he was a bit confused with our delight at watching him do something that didn’t seem that out of the ordinary. Paper shredding is a favorite pastime. We on the other hand, found Christmas magic in his every move.

As we fast forward to my January scans, a size increase in another watched tumor was enough to be logged as progression and I am out of the trial.  While it has been at times challenging, I am grateful for the 16 months I was in this trial. We saw shrinkage of my cancer burden and until a couple weeks ago, stable scans.  I am also beyond grateful for the amazing professionals I’ve met through this trial. Your expert care and friendship has been instrumental in the treatment’s success and I recognize you for the angels you are.  So what’s next?  My spectacular oncology team has already set into motion next steps. I’m feeling good and in a good place to try another treatment and so I will. I’ll share more when the i’s are dotted and the t’s are crossed.

We had an interesting discussion at our last lung cancer support group meeting.  When is enough, enough? We often find ourselves moving in starts and stops from a hypothetical question to one that can become all too real. Quality of life and balance become catch phrases as we maneuver through our unique uncharted territories. We all do this our own way, in our own time and there are no right or wrong answers. 

Before I was diagnosed, I remember making the statement that if I was ever diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and my only option was chemotherapy, I wouldn’t do it. It was easy to make this statement then, I never believed I’d ever have to make that choice.  Let it be said that there are innumerable shades of gray in the black and white lines we draw in shifting sands. I have a unique perspective from where I sit, watching the lines continuing to blur in and out while contemplating my seventh line of treatment. 

And so here we are. I welcome the continuing adventure and will do my best to meet it head on with authenticity and of course – Love.

4 thoughts on “Lucky Number 7

  1. Peggy, I am sorry you’re out of the trial, but glad the treatments worked to a certain extent and, but for one lesion, you’re stable. I hear you on rethinking treatments…we are in that boat, too. Glad you’re here to offer hope and inspiration, and may that be the case for years to come.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Peggy, I am so glad your Angels are looking for another option and that you are enjoying Ben! What a cutie! I look at your photo daily and am reminded of what Strength looks like. Big hugs!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Dear Peggy, you continue to inspire and encourage me. We swim most days and you are there with me on every swim – whether you know it or not!!!
    Keep looking at Ben and feel all that love that little munchkin brings, reminding us the smallest things bring the greatest gifts. One day at a time, one breath at a time, be peaceful with yourself and all else will fall into place. Sending love Julie Zocchi xx

    Liked by 1 person

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