July

The power of perspective

In my February post, I wrote that in the early days of my treatment, I found it too difficult to look months ahead when all would be okay. Well, as the summer came, I finally found my hope fixed on being past chemotherapy. Along with the warm weather came a test of patience, and when that failed me, a priceless lesson in the power of perspective.

Last October, as part of my initial Challenge Year, my patience was tested as I used a flip phone for an entire month. Once I completed the challenge, I wrote the following:

"Being patient is never fun, but this served as a good reminder that the world will keep spinning, and soon enough, the wait will be over."

Although this reminder did help me in my cancer journey, little did I know what patience truly was.

When I first started my treatment, if all went well, I was scheduled to be finished with my last chemo cycle in early June. Unfortunately, four of my infusions were pushed back a week. This may not sound like a long time, but I was devastated every time I was told I had to wait. I knew this meant it would take that much longer for me to start my recovery and be entirely better.

When my treatment finally ended in early July, I felt relieved to have reached the end. But this relief was quickly overshadowed by not knowing the path ahead. As part of my care plan, after my last round of chemotherapy, I had to wait a month for a final PET scan. This scan was to see whether I was in remission or not. As I waited those four weeks, I longed to have clarity on the next steps for my life. I wanted to know if I was cured or if I needed to prepare myself for more treatment.

When my appointment to review my scan results finally came around, my patience broke with the news I received. I was told the scan showed, in a technical sense, that I was in remission. But unfortunately, despite the intense chemotherapy over the past seven months, my tumor shrunk but was still clearly present and showed borderline activity. As a result, despite the technicality, my doctor said the results of my scan were inconclusive.

Given these results, my doctor said I needed to have a biopsy of my mass and that I should meet with radiation oncology to see if I needed a different form of treatment. Furthermore, I was told that I was to meet with the head lymphoma specialist at the U of M.

With all of this, I left my appointment shattered. I had no more patience to exhaust in my situation. I had already been through so much, all I wanted to do was start my recovery; not only physically but also mentally.

When I got home, I started sharing the message with others. As soon as I did, I was immediately perplexed by the responses. I got messages of "That is great!" "Congrats Scott!" "What are they talking about?" I thought. This is not good news. Did they not just read the message I sent them?

After a while, I realized what my friends and family read. What they received was a message of good news. They saw a message saying I was much closer to completing my treatment. As I reread the texts I sent from the perspective of others, I finally understood the message I got was great. It just was not what I wanted to hear. My perspective was set on the outcome I desired. As a result, I was blinded to the positivity that was present.

As I grabbed onto this perspective, I found a second wind of patience, which let me persevere a bit longer as I waited for what was due in August…