365 Days of Cancer

Today had a lot of potential to be really hard for me. This whole week I have been a bit stressed, not only from the looming midterms, but also from the nagging reminders of what week it was. Everyday would trigger a memory. Wednesday night was the night last year in which I lay on my futon all night, watching the minutes tick by, in so much pain that I was unable to sleep. Yesterday was the day that my mom drove down from Richmond to take care of me. And today was the day of my first ever MRI. And one year ago today was the day that I was told I had cancer. I feel like I have been haunted by the memories this week. I can't get them out of my head. Scenes keep playing over and over in my mind, refusing to leave me alone.

I remember every moment of the appointment when I found out I had cancer. I remember telling a few of my friends that night, and the looks on their faces when they heard the news. I remember leaving Greenville and not knowing when I would ever get to come back. I remember getting wheeled into the hospital in Richmond a few days later and being taken to the Oncology floor for the first time. I remember March 8th, the day that they told me they thought I had kidney cancer and that there was no cure. I remember the doctors appointment when they confirmed it was kidney cancer, and I cried solely because it meant I could not go to France. I remember going in for my nephrectomy March 14, and some moments of the following week in the hospital. I remember a doctor coming in right when I was out of my surgery and telling me that he thought I would need emergency back surgery because my spine was so unstable (although praise the Lord that was never necessary).  The next two months were the darkest days of my entire life, with unimaginable weakness, nausea, fatigue and pain. The two weeks of radiation in April. The daily visits to the hospital in Richmond, and the frequent unexpected visits to the ER. I remember getting my port put in my chest. I remember having to go to the Virginia Cancer Institute every other day for infusions to keep me from getting too dehydrated because I was always so nauseous. I remember going up to UVA to talk with the doctor about the treatment Interleukin II, and then months later getting the call that told me I no longer qualified for the treatment. I remember going up to NIH in DC, and being forced to go to 25 doctors in a week, get every type of scan and being terrified by the intense offices and sick patients everywhere. And even more recently, I remember the miserable feeling of being sick at school, having to take tests when you feel like you are about to get sick or making myself go socialize with people even when I feel so exhausted I could fall over.

But I remember the good times too. I remember coming home from my surgery to find my room redecorated by my family and friends. I remember the stacks of cards and notes that would come for me every day in the mail, reminding me of the support that I have even on the hardest of days. I remember Chris and Alex coming into my room to watch mindless TV shows with me, and making me care packages for my days in the hospital. I remember when my friends would come to visit. I remember when I was first able to go outside and sit in the beautiful weather. I remember the first Sunday that I was able to go to Hope Church, and how it was one of the most powerful experiences of my life. I remember driving back to Furman, and the overwhelming joy that encompassed my whole being. I remember being on the Homecoming court, and what an honor it was to be able to stand in front of my peers on the field, knowing how much they love and support me.

This year has been very full of bad times, pain and hardships. But there have been wonderful blessings as well. I can honestly say that I think I have experienced a type of love hardly anyone my age has. I have received so many cards and emails from complete strangers, encouraging me and telling me that they pray for me daily. My sorority made "Team Perrin" shirts for me, and when I see people wearing them here at school I am reminded so vividly of the support that I have. My aunt, brother and friends made purple bracelets for my friends to wear, reminding people to pray and reminding me how much people love me. I have decided to wear mine until the day I get well, and I never take it off because it reminds me everyday that I am not alone. People have sent me flowers and made me blankets and every other kind and wonderful gift you can imagine. People have poured out support for me, and loved me when I was too weak to give anything in return. I have heard from people all over the world, in China, Nicaragua, Italy, and the Dominican Republic who are praying for me. Wow God is big! The list of kindnesses from this past year could truly go on and on, and I can never begin to explain how grateful I am for the unconditional love that I've witnessed towards both me and my family.

And in this one year I have learned more big life lessons than I thought possible. Yet I feel I have so many more to still grasp. I have learned what it means to cling to the Lord when literally everything in your life starts falling apart. I have learned the value of family, and seen how amazing and wonderful they truly are. I have a renewed thankfulness for my friends, who have been there for me through thick and thin. I have seen the value of making bad days better, and forcing yourself to look at the positive. My levels of empathy have grown, especially for other cancer patients. But I have also seen that no one is invincible, and that even though college students live as if they have forever, life can quickly change. I am grateful for the sky and the sun and the beauty of spring. Grateful for the days when I feel strong enough to dance or walk to class. Grateful that I can now eat without being sick. I am more grateful for the little things in life, a lesson I never would have learned without the pain of cancer.

Someone asked me a while ago if I would change my cancer. If I were omnipotent, would I take away this past year? And honestly my first thought was no, I wouldn't. Cancer has shown me how strong I really am, and has completely changed me. And although many people don't immediately see that change, I feel it in me. I feel like a completely different person than I was a year ago, and I wouldn't want to go back to that other person. Now granted I would change my cancer for tomorrow, and make me better for the future if I were omnipotent. But as for yesterday and today, I would not make it any different.

So although today had potential to be really hard for me, in so many ways it turned out to be a blessing. Today has been a major milestone for me. 365 days of cancer. One year. But today I saw so clearly the love that surrounds me. My friends wore "Team Perrin" shirts around school today. People sent me flowers and cards and emails of encouragement. My friends came up and gave me hugs today as soon as they saw me. My friends and family turned today into a day of celebration, rather than a day of mourning, and I am so grateful for that. Praise the Lord for today, for how far I've come in a year, and for the upcoming year. God is good, even when times seem unbearable. And I am grateful for that.

Sorry for the long post today, and excess of thoughts and memories. But I wanted to document everything, and remember the thoughts that have been filling my mind today. I leave tomorrow for Destin for Spring Break! I am excited to get a week away from school and work, and hopefully to have some relaxing time on the beach! Thanks for all of the love and prayers today. You have taken a hard day and made it a blessing, and I am so grateful for that!

"But when Jesus heard [that Lazarus was sick] he said, "This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.'" -John 11:4