The Other Side of the Bridge – I’m happy to report that the post-treatment funk seems to be lifting. More energy, more appetite, more lightness in my head. It doesn’t hurt that it is a beautiful fall day, and the tunes are good 😉. I intend to use the opportunity to build strength and keep busy, essential components of my well-being.

I’m not sure how to present this thought in a way that doesn’t come off sounding anything but sappy, so apologies in advance. For years, when I was asked how I was doing, my answer would be “Best day of my life.” Corny by some standards, and for others maybe bordering on obnoxious. More than once, the person asking what they thought was a rather innocuous question was stopped by a response that was something other than a perfunctory, “fine”.  This was my way of reminding myself to make the most of that one day, and it still is. We really only have today. It’s here and it is now. You’re using a part of it to read this post, which may or may not be best use, but I am not the one to say. The rest of today is ahead of you, make the most of it, make a difference in someone else’s day if you can, even in the smallest of ways. I believe that’s why we are here.

Love and support to all those in the battle.

Listen, hear! – I continue to be overwhelmed and grateful for the response I’ve received from these posts, which are a part of The American Cancer Society’s October Photo-a-Day Challenge on Facebook. The mission of ACS is to improve the lives of people with cancer and their families through advocacy, research, and patient support, to ensure everyone has an opportunity to prevent, detect, treat, and survive cancer. Thank you to everyone who has donated, and all who have supported the cause in general or patients specifically. Sadly, it is not inaccurate to state that most all of us have been effected by this disease in one way or another.

One great blessing from these posts has been learning that others suffering from one form of cancer or another have found comfort or strength from this narrative, which was my goal from the outset. This has all been an unexpected chapter of my story, and as much as it is solely mine, on any day it could be anyone’s. It really is no matter the cards we are dealt, it is what we do with them that makes a difference.

When I really consider how many people have lived and died with this disease, I am heartbroken to think that perhaps I could have been more sensitive or empathetic to the condition, and to those people, even family and friends. But, I think that until you meet the diagnosis head on, it is sort of like a foreign language. You hear it, you may understand a term or two, but most of it is lost in translation.

Everyone is going through something, and for many, it is this. That is reason enough for us not to judge another. When you can, listen… Listen with an ear towards hearing what the other person is saying, what they may be feeling. We don’t have to experience it in order to show empathy or at the least, be an open ear. And for many, that alone is a building block of hope and strength.

The Unknown – We have all, at one point in our lives, stood at the precipice of the unknown and anticipated the worst. As much as I have learned about my diagnosis and treatment, there remain so many unknowns. I tend to ask a lot of questions in order to better understand my situation, but I know that there are harder questions, to which there may be no clear answers at this moment.

• Am I getting healthier?
• Is the treatment working?
• What will my next scan reveal?

Fear of the unknown can be paralyzing, and there is a choice to be made. To worry about these unanswerable questions and imagine unwanted scenarios or to, as the kids will sing, “Let It Go”.

Time is too precious, there is too much of life to live to burn energy on things that cannot be controlled. The peace I pray for will bring with it answers when answers are to be had. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

To all who are facing the unknown, may your inner strength help you move forward.

The Cadence – It’s only taken me 5 sessions (my halfway point) to realize that there is a cadence to the side effects and feelings that emerge in the days after treatment. (I should write these down). Sensitivity to cold, neuropathy, dry mouth, loss of taste, unique dizziness when standing up, growing fatigue, general malaise. I’m grateful not to be experiencing nausea so far, and they’ve said that hair loss is not a side effect of these particular drugs. (Though nature may have commandeered the controls regarding that one…) I am told that the effects of my treatment peak between days 5 and 9, so perhaps more to come. It seems that toward the tail end of my time away from treatment, I feel better, more energy, a bit more taste, a little less sensitivity to cold. Again, they tell me that the effects are cumulative in nature, and so each week, they may extend deeper into the week.

By today’s standard, yesterday was a particularly fatiguing day. Energy seemed to drain out of my body, and I slept for hours. Today seems better in that regard, and I am once more ready rejoin the battle.

As odd as it may sound, I am grateful for the challenges I face. God has given me the grace and strength to face my obstacles, and I am learning to accept these gifts with the renewed faith that all I need will be provided. A day like yesterday shines a beautiful light on today. If not for our darker days, the light of this day would not burn so bright. We should not lose sight of the precious commodity that is this moment. It’s raining today, but even that is a welcoming and rejuvenating sign that there is life and joy and love in this day.

For those facing challenges today, we are all praying for you.

Dog Tired. Tomorrow we fight anew.

Life Up Close – As a landscape photographer, my focus usually starts at the horizon, often a great distance away with a broad view that can be miles wide. The view is grand and beautiful, often eliciting the response, “I wish I were there”. Imagining the future is like gazing at that wide-angle vista with the beautiful sunset and miles of open space. So much lies before us, and hopes and aspirations are integral parts of the scene.

Events of late have brought my viewpoint much closer to the tip of my nose, and I’ve found there to be equal beauty and happiness in the here and now. Plans and visions for the future are a big part of what feeds our sense of hope, but they are not guaranteed.

When you realize that they are not promised to us you begin to discover the joy that lives in the moments that are close at hand.

Live every day in wonder and gratitude, you will not have wasted a moment.

Stress Less – Cancer puts tremendous strain on the system all by itself, and chemo and radiation treatments impose an additional tax on the body in order to effectively attack the disease. Since we are creatures of free will, our mind is capable of adding to that stress, if we let it. But so much of that mental stress is worry about things over which we have no control, and the energy spent on that could and should otherwise be directed toward visualizing a return to health.

That I am sick is a given. The results of the latest test are going to be what they are, and we will know when we know. Why should I worry about the things I cannot impact? The impact I CAN have on my outcome is based on my mustering strength of body, mind and spirit. We continue our (almost) daily walks to maintain strength of body. To strengthen my mind, I reject the option to stress about things out of my control. I’ve learned to give those concerns up to God, who strengthens my spirit. Letting go is not easy, but trusting in the peace of God frees me to devote my energy toward healing and living a more positive and productive life with whatever time I am gifted.

My treatment yesterday went well, and I expect to experience side effects over the coming days. Though they are cumulative in their effect over multiple sessions, they do seem to diminish over time away from treatment. Day by day.

Thank you for the enormous gift of your love and support. Please share that love with all those in this fight, especially those enduring greater suffering.

Treatment Day – It’s Not a Sprint- Today marks the fifth of what is expected to be ten treatments, the halfway point of this part of the journey. Generally I am feeling good, with most of the “other than normal” sensations seeming to be caused by the treatments.

Treatment days are the mile markers in what has become clear to me is a marathon, and not a sprint. Speaking of that, the NYC Marathon is coming up next month. The marathon has become a global event, with over 50,000 runners from all over the world participating. For so many, it is a bucket list item to participate and finish. It is not about finishing first (only one person can do that), it is about setting and achieving personal goals. If you have not witnessed it on TV or otherwise, the event is an awe-inspiring spectacle of the human spirit, with a sea of humanity pouring across the Verrazzano Bridge at the start of the race.

My son-in-law is training for the NYC Marathon. I am inspired everyday by his effort and dedication to preparing for the event. As race day approaches, we’ve often spoken about what’s required for each of us to accomplish our goals. Determination is essential to staying focused through the long haul of training/treatments. Distractions (music, change of scenery) can help make the physical strain of the task more palatable. And certainly for both of us, the end results are worth the effort required to achieve them. We do what we’re doing to get healthy, and stay healthy. We’ve both agreed that the common denominators for us are a strong positive mental attitude and a support system of family and friends that strengthen and encourage us.

Believe in what you can achieve.

Prayers of strength and love to all those running this marathon.

Sun-day Reflection – Our souls are like windows. They have the ability to reflect light, and to let light in.

I’ve been asked how I came upon the name “Light of Day” for my gallery and the photographic work that I do. When I boiled it down to the least common denominator of the images, regardless of their genre, the one constant is that the subjects all reflect the light of day. In fact, everything we see around us, we see because of the light that is reflected off of it. Photography by its definition is “drawing with light” reflected off of the object, or the person in front of the lens.

The one true source of our light is the sun, and all that is on earth absorbs and reflects the light of that sun. Likewise, a loving God is our source of light, and we are all absorbers and reflectors of that light. So, why this talk about light reflected and absorbed? Because I have been overwhelmed by the responses I have received since I started relating my story. I am grateful to every single person who has taken a moment to respond to these posts in one way or another. Thank you for this gift. Each one of you is reflecting the light that is the goodness in this world. In each of you, I see the face of God reflected.

Along with all of the love and support you’ve shared, your contributions to the American Cancer Society to date are more than double our initial goal, and for that, all those of us in the fight with this disease are immensely grateful.

Everything we have is a gift from above. The only gifts we have to give are the gifts we’ve received.

Fatigue is tiring.