Hard Times Come Again No More

Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears

While we all sup sorrow with the poor

There's a song that will linger forever in our ears

Oh, hard times come again no more

That's right guys. It's a good ole' fashioned lyrics post that should take us all back to high school Livejournal.

But seriously, this is an awesome autumnal song that I basically had on repeat allll last year.

I wanted to take the time to juxtapose this October with the hellish October of 2012. Yesterday I came back from a conference that I really enjoy. It was my third time attending (going for the hat trick) so the event makes for an easy comparison of my Fall quarters past and present.

Before attending the conference last year I had just found out my mother did not have any donor options. As I've frequently said, that news was harder to take than the diagnosis itself and it was very difficult to know how to cope with a conference setting in the midst of such an upending prognosis.

I have vivid memories of sitting in my hotel armchair trying to plan a lesson on the Inferno, proofread my paper, and get my head around the fact that my mother might have to sign up for experimental trials.

A contemplative moment from 2012

This year was so so so much better. Light years away. In fact, the first few weeks of the quarter have been marked by the ease and comfort of teaching WITHOUT the looming shadow of cancer.

I find myself thinking:

"Is this how easy it is to grade papers?"

"If organizing conferences is this relatively relaxed, I should do another!"

"Qualifying exams are going to be a breeze*"

* Disclaimer: I only said this in jest. Qualifying exams are going to be horrifyingly tough.

So this is definitely the best part of the journey towards survivorship!  Everything feels lighter. Everything feels more relaxed.  If only that reaction wasn't complicated by two other factors

A) What will happen if things change? To be clear, my mother had an odd diagnosis and we're not sure what to expect. I think we're all a little worried about being "caught" while we feel so cancer-free, making any potential come down even worse. I remember my first reaction to the news that my mother would NOT get a BMT was.... "well don't get too comfortable because I can't take another hit of bad news" It's a terrible feeling to contrast with such terrific news.

I think my mom also feels many of these emotions, wondering whether to take her port out and embrace the NED status or keep it in and ward off any depression that would come with a complete return to "Cancerland"

No one tells you how to deal with this, but I can't imagine that focusing on the present and the good luck we've had could be the wrong answer, so that's what I'm clinging to.

Enjoying what we have!

B) We're not the only ones.

My family might have gotten a ticket to leave "Cancerland" but so many other people are still coping with all the tragedies and tribulations involved with being there. I don't feel like I can look away and I don't feel like I can shut myself off and not talk about it. In fact, I think that because I've been open about my own reactions to grief, I've become a resource for other people to come and talk (at least that's what I hope).

It's a reality check to go to UCSF and see people beginning treatment. The cycle continues and the need for new research is always a pressing problems for thousands of patients and an exponential number of people they love. It's truly mind-bending to think that two children passed away this summer who were diagnosed AFTER my mother was. 

So, in honor of Julianna and Jayson, continue donating to St. Jude's or continuing the amazing awareness campaign that so many friends of mine have contributed to.

https://waystohelp.stjude.org/sjVPortal/public/displayUserPage.do?userId=994555&programId=2252&eventId=349830

For example, Kelsey told me about Headbands of Hope and when I got this adorable headband, I was also donating $1 to childhood cancer research and another headband to a young girl going through treatment.

http://www.headbandsofhope.org

Just a coincidence that I'm wearing the same cardigan...
go gold!

I'm praying the Hard Times won't be in the future for my family and I'm doing my best to ward them away from other communities in the future!