This weekend I celebrated a day I never expected to see – my fortieth birthday! It has been almost three years since that awful day when I found out that I had lung cancer that had spread throughout my body. In those days, I was so very sick and weak that I couldn't imagine living for another six months, let alone entering my 40s.
I decided it was a milestone I needed to celebrate BIG, but I also wanted to give something back to the community that has supported me and quite literally kept me alive this far. I decided to have an improv show at the theatre/brewery that my husband and I co-founded, and to give all the funds to cancer research. It was an amazing night. I told the story of my cancer journey, and our incredibly talented cast of improvisers took those ideas and themes and turned them into hilarious scenes that had the audience – myself included – laughing until our sides ached.
But, as it seems to happen with every joyful occasion on my life now, part of me kept wondering if this would be the last birthday I would see. I have no delusions about the path I'm on, and I am acutely aware of how insanely lucky I have been so far. I have become intricately connected with the lung cancer community, a group of people who have kept my sane throughout this awful rollercoaster ride. Unfortunately, I have learned how quickly the tide can turn and sometimes the person you were sure would beat the odds doesn't.
It's a delicate balance, this stage 4 life.
On the day I turned 40…
…"scanxiety" crept around the edges of my mind. My three-month scans were due the day before my birthday, but I requested to have them pushed back a week so that I could enjoy my celebration with a (relatively) calm mind.
On the day I turned 40…
…a fellow stage 4 boldly embraced her future and got married. Despite the uncertainly, she took the brave step into her future and decided to live!
On the day I turned 40…
…my lung cancer community mourned as a fellow stage 4 took his last breath. Treatment after treatment failed him, and despite seeking out specialists and clinical trials, the cancer moved too fast.
Birthdays are a time for looking back and looking forward and taking stock of where you have been and where you hope to go. At times like these, it is hard not to think about the daunting five-year survival statistics for metastatic lung cancer. These numbers have recently doubled – sounds great, right? But they doubled from 1 percent to 2 percent. As I approach my third anniversary of living with this disease, I can't help but wonder if the clock is ticking.
I try to find the balance, focusing on all the joys I have in my life now, and daring to let my mind wander into the future. I sure hope to blow out candles that read "41."
Originally published at: http://www.curetoday.com/community/tori-tomalia/2016/03/a-day-i-never-expected-to-see
