Each week, I write about the lessons I have learned while on this journey we call life and it is my intent to be humorous and candid with these anecdotes. There is nothing that brings me more joy than hearing your comments and your thoughts through e-mail and conversation. You see, you are the reason I write and your encouragement is the fuel I need to continue with this dream. If I make you smile, shake your head, laugh, or even shed a tear, then my job is done.
Just the other day, a beautiful lady told me she had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and I felt that all too familiar surge of anger rise up. I took her hand in mine, searching her fearful, brown eyes for a clear spot; a glimmer of hope. “I promise you it will be OK,” I said. I went on to tell her my own tale; assuring her there was tremendous advancement and superior care available right here in Aroostook County. “It is OK to be afraid,” I said. “Cancer will never win because we are stronger and bigger than Cancer. Turn that fear into a weapon.” I hope my words bring this sweet, treasured woman comfort as she prepares for the fight of her life.
For 25 consecutive days during the summer of 2011, I traveled to Presque Isle every morning to receive radiation treatments. I would rise, take a shower, pull on my clothes and go out to our truck, where Dale and Barney waited patiently. Dale would hand me a bottle of water and Flexor; a medicine to relax the muscles in my back. Please let me assure you that more than one morning I could be found cowering in the corner of the shower, my body and my mind in shambles. I would whisper, “Dale! Call the radiation suite and tell them I am never, ever going back. I’ll take my chances. I would rather die than lie down on that radiation table one more time.” The tepid water and the beat of my wounded heart would drown out the sound of defeat, and sanity would prevail. I never missed a single session.
And so, my friends, I once again write about cancer; that malevolent predator that slithers into our world like a snake; relentlessly overwhelming us in despair. There are no mediocre words to describe this plague that has left so many of us shaking in its wake; trembling in the midst of aftershocks that far too often result in premature death. We are thankful to God and medical technology for amazing advancements and progress that has abolished the instant death sentence that once accompanied its diagnosis.
When it comes to cancer, we must hold on to the fury and the desire to march into battle. We distribute tales of success and triumph like newly mined golden nuggets of hope for a cure. We pray for each other; encourage each other; love each other. We are delighted with our progress but we must never forget the miserable road to remission, for that is what anchors our resolve and determination to remain victorious.
As we delve into the New Year, I once again ask you to have your health screenings updated. If you are due for testing, please do not hesitate. Call your doctor today. Cancer does not wait.
Editor’s Note: Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives in Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
