As many of you know, I start my fifth cycle of chemotherapy, 15th total round, on Thursday. I’m very careful to even write this entry because I feel so far removed from the disease. I gave cancer its 15-minutes of fame and I’ve moved forward! I don’t wake up each day and think about my situation nor do I go to bed and pray for my own healing. My focus is always on others because I know God is in control of my life.
That being said…God has such a funny personality!
I used to internally get annoyed when everyone always asked about my travels across the world covering sports and news. I would think to myself: “Talk to me about something else! I’m much more than a reporter!”
Well, that’s what I get (laughs)!
Now, people always want to know how I’m feeling which is greatly appreciated. Through this journey, I’ve learned there are many incredible, loving people in the world and I happen to be surrounded by the best. I still get uncomfortable talking about me, I’d much rather change the subject and hear about others. In fact, it’s probably my biggest struggle through this all. I always want to tell the story, not be the story (laughs)! However, I also humble myself and realize my calling in life is to share my story, reflect the joy of the Lord and show others that just because you have cancer…it doesn’t mean life’s over. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s when you truly start living. After all, who says IV drips can’t make a great accessory?
Since my form of cancer is incurable, I’ll receive this treatment for the rest of my life. I tend to live my life in four-month increments. I go hard the entire time until another cycle rolls around. “Going hard” doesn’t mean just working hard. Nope, I condition my body by working out and condition my mind and spirit by volunteering and serving. Therefore, by the time I walk through the doors of the hospital, it is game time!
The medicine forces me to slow down, sit still for 8-hours at a time and reprioritize my life. I approach each cycle as I do a race: I get focused spiritually and mentally, take in every moment, then fight like a champion for weeks. In the chemo room at the hospital, my chair faces others being treated and often times…I see it in their eyes…you know, the ones whom have lost hope and given up. I take those moments to pick up my IV drip, with needles hooked up throughout my body, and scoot over to visit them. Most are older and have no family there. I do my best to show I care and put a smile across their faces. This is what I mean when I say “take in the moment.”
And then, before I know it, my treatments will be over, another month will pass, and I’ll walk through the doors finished with this cycle. My family believes in celebrating the tiny victories in life, so upon completion, we hang an invisible medal around my neck, recognizing my achievement, our achievement, and then move on to the next stage of life.
***
People often say to me: “Cancer Sucks.” Or they’ll send me shirts that say that. I politely tell them thank you, but I never agree with the statement. By saying “cancer sucks” I’m taking the negative approach to the situation and I refuse to do that. Cancer is not always fair. It’s not always easy. It hurts. But there are also a lot of great things to consider, too. For one, you feel love and support constantly. You witness how friends and family rally around a person and passionately attend events and functions to let you know they care. You get to meet incredible doctors, nurses and researchers whom passionately seek a cure from this disease. Your family develops a bond that you never thought possible. Most importantly, through cancer, you meet other survivors, like youngsters, whom walk this Earth displaying unimaginable courage and hope.
And speaking of a youngster…
A few weeks ago, I was asked by Mansfield Legacy High School to be a part of ‘L.U.C.K Week’ to honor a 10-year-old, Ethan. Just like me, Ethan also has the most-advanced form of cancer. We had an instant bond and shared our scars, hospital stories and moments of triumph. Ethan was an all-star baseball player and superb athlete at that time of diagnosis in June. Now he wears hearing aids, glasses and often times can’t muster up the strength to get around.
You would think a child or healthy young adult like me would drown in the sorrow when faced with our situations. Nope. Not once do we ever complain or allow a negative thought to enter our minds.
Although 21 years separate our lives, Ethan and I get the bigger picture: God is the Ultimate Physician and He knows we’re absolutely perfect and healthy in His eyes! They had a pep rally for Ethan at Legacy and I noticed people kept saying “We know you’ll beat this Ethan!” People say that to me all the time and I try to not allow it to bother me, but it does, especially when said to a child. I know it’s just a figure of speech people use, but the truth is, Ethan and I beat this the moment we decided not to allow cancer to define our lives. The Victory has already been won.
Ethan was baptized last Sunday at church (what an incredible testimony he has)! Monday he went in to the hospital to start immunotherapy. By Tuesday (yesterday), Ethan was in ICU fighting for his life, but praise God that we just received word that he’s stable. Knowing this and the courage Ethan displays gives me strength and hope every moment of the day. Not to mention, we both have incredible families that are eerily similar. Ethan’s sister, Lauren, is his sidekick and emotional partner-in-crime. My sister is the same way. Ethan’s mom is headstrong, loving and a mom-on-a-mission. My mother is exactly that way. Our dads and brothers are the silent warriors whom give us strength on the days we just want to sit still.
And then, there are all of you.
You remind me daily that this journey is not about me. It's about ALL of us. We all face battles. And best of all? There is no greater comfort in knowing we have each other during various seasons, obstacles, triumphs and moments in life. Just as you’re always here for me…I, too, constantly pray and think of you.
***
Last month, I decided to celebrate my birthday by running another half-marathon, this time with my mom at Disney World. Now, my mom is 52-years-old (but still looking good, like she says) and the starting line was dotted with thousands of women half her age. I got really teary-eyed seeing her cross the starting line because I know what it took to get there. My mom struggled with weight issues for many years, yet never gave up, and continued to fight. When she made the decision to get healthy, putting on her shoes was a task. But she did it. Then mom started to walk…and before you know it, she could jog. Therefore, when she told me she wanted to take on the half-marathon adventure, I was thrilled.
You see, it’s not about the finish line. Sometimes in life, mustering up the courage to even try or attempt something takes the most courage. The human body and spirit is capable to do extraordinary things, far more than one could ever imagine, but often times, we’re paralyzed with fear. Don’t be that way. Be bold, otherwise, you might miss out on incredible opportunities.
I tackle my cancer journey like mom approached her mission to get healthy: one step at a time, one day at a time. There are times I walk through cancer, there are times I run and there are times that putting on socks and shoes zaps every ounce of my energy. But I try. I keep moving. I walk up to the starting line of the hospital doors, knowing full well, the task before me is long and grueling. But it’s in these moments I grow the most because I know at the end of it, I feel the greatest sense of victory and accomplishment.
To know me, is to know that I am very cheerful and at peace with my situation. People say to me over and over: “There is no way you’re this happy in life, especially battling this situation.” Well, simply put: I am and it comes from nowhere else but from Above. I have a deep relationship and understanding with Christ (my “Papa) and I actively pursue Him every single moment. How could you not be joyful when your Daddy created the Universe!
***
In closing, Mom and I had the chance to take my nephew Lucas to Disney World during our marathon weekend. The day before our race, he competed in the baby races at ESPN and ran in the 1-to-3-year-old division (he’s 2). There were thousands of youngsters out competing and many heats within Luke’s race. It was a pretty awesome sight to see!
Anyway, in Luke’s division, an adult jogged with the kids, so I was blessed with the opportunity to run with my little man!One of my best friends, Carly, a former college softball standout at Florida State, ran with her nephew, Grayson. We laughed because at the starting line, all the parents were telling their kids how to run, what to do, to win the race. Meanwhile, Carly and I took a different approach and never mentioned the race at all to Luke and Grayson. Instead, we danced and jumped around with our Rugrats while other parents stared at us for being ‘THAT parent who let’s their child run wild!’
When the moment arrived for our 100-meter-race, the boys stepped to the starting line and when the gun went off, we yelled: “Run!”
And just like that, something magical happened: Luke moved his itty-bitty legs, put a smile across his toddler face and took off sprinting like Usain Bolt!
During the 2-minute race, my nephew unknowingly taught me the most inspiring message I’ve ever witnessed in life! From the second we took off with the pack, Luke yelled out loud: “We’re winning! We’re winning!” He repeated it the entire time, despite the fact that we weren’t the first to cross the finish line.
In his precious eyes - we won!
Tears flowed down my face because Luke had it exactly right.
I looked over at Carly and she, too, was teary-eyed, after racing with Grayson.
She’s competed in the College World Series, won many athletic awards during her lifetime and witnessed some pretty incredible things. In fact, many of them, we’ve done together. Carly and I skied the Swiss Alp, slept on hay bales in Ireland and sat along the Rhein River in Germany. Yet, no other moment in our lives, brought us more pride or excitement than watching our boys race. It was their moment. It was our moment.
The boys taught us a greater lesson that we can all learn from:
Although we might not always finish first, get the job we want, battle diseases, lose loved ones, struggle with finances, and fight things that simply aren’t fair -– the truth is – we’re all victorious. That price has been paid. Therefore, until we reach the Ultimate Finish line – Heaven – I encourage all of us to wake up each day joyful, happy, and full of passion because, after all, “We’re Winning! We’re Winning!”
From-- Tamara Jolee Metcalfe
