On December 7, 2000, I was diagnosed with stage four Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. In short, lymphoma is cancer of the lymph nodes, and is often described as cancer of the immune system. I was 29 yrs old at the time of my diagnosis, and I was given a 70-80% chance of living. Not bad odds. But still, that’s only somewhere in the C-minus — B-minus range. Not great. Stage Four simply describes the spread of the disease. In my case, I had it not only in my lymph nodes, but my bone marrow as well.
I was treated at Northwestern Memorial Hospital by some of the very best in the Oncology field. My doctor, Jane Winter, is still something of a superhero in my eyes, right up there with Oncology nurses and Batman(duh). After about 3 and 1/2 months of intensive chemotherapy, which was put on hold after my kidneys shut down and necessitated a week of dialysis, I was and remain (knocking on wood as I type) cancer-free. My hair and eyebrows grew back (my hair has once again started a retreat, albeit more slowly). By the way, eyebrows are functional, and don’t let anyone tell you differently.
In spite of enduring months of chemo, I remain “viable”, and my wife and I are expecting a baby next month (more on that to come, no doubt.)
This date has come around eight times now, and as the years pass, some of the details of that incredible and painful time fade. But December 7, known more infamously as the day Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese, will for me always be my personal “date which will live in infamy”.
I have bookmarked this entry.
Because it is human, it is honest and it is entirely hopeful.
Nothing makes me happier than to know another anniversary of this momentous day has come and gone.
Except maybe your impending fatherhood.
Oh the laughs that await you…