As most of you probably know by now, I was diagnosed with Non Hodgkins Lymphoma in mid January. I was incredibly lucky that it was caught early. I've been told by many people that I should keep a journal. I'm not sure if I want to remember a lot of what's happened to me but I suppose I will immortalize some of it forever here in the blogshere.
I've been asked countless questions, people are curious. The questions have been asked in various forms and permutations but they all essentially boil down to one question. They are all a variation of the same sentiment. Am I scared is basically the thought on every one's mind.
Interesting question. Before I got cancer I would have the thought the answer would have been simple, something to the effect of "Hell yes I'm scared." It's more complicated. In fact, I would say that the answer leans much more toward no. You have no idea how you're going to react to the news until it happens to you. For me it was surprising.
I remember when I found out I had a tumor under my sternum, my wife and my mother-in-law were in the ER room with me. My wife gave me a tear soaked hug. My mother-in-law, herself a cancer survivor, gave me a look that was a combination of such empathy and misery that I will never forget it. She asked if she should leave the room? I think I said, "Of course not." I was very calm, it was strange. A few hours later, I got the exact same look from my own mother. I suppose it's got something to do with a mother's nurturing and the fact that they've grown life inside their bodies.
Here's the bottom line for me. In the quiet moments with myself, when I'm staring at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take me, I think a lot. I soul search. I've always been this way. It's more pronounced now that I have cancer, it's much more intense. This is what I've learned and these are the conclusions I came to in the surreal days I spent waiting to find out what kind of cancer and what stage I had.
I am not afraid. We are all dying. Our rate of demise and the means may be different, but we are all doing it. If my life ended tomorrow I'd still be fortunate. I've seen and done incredible things. I've travelled the world. I've met interesting people. I've loved and been loved. I've crammed a lot of life into 42 years.
The only thing I am afraid of is my children will grow up without a father, my wife will be a widow and my parents will grieve the loss of a son. And most of all, I am afraid my sons will have to live with a douche bag step-father. I've always joked with my wife that if I croak and she remarries I will haunt her for the rest of her days. The other lesson I've learned is never lose your sense of humor.
I am motivated by the positivity, the prayers and the outpouring of concern I've received the past few weeks. I made up my mind early that I wasn't going to be a victim. I have Native American heritage. I honored this heritage by cutting my hair into a Mohawk. If it were socially acceptable to put war paint on my face, I'd do that. The Mohawk is part defiance, part fashion statement. I purchased a bunch of cool hats. Thus far, my hair is being stubborn so the hats wait their turn.
Thank you to each and every one of you that has reached out to me, supported me, encouraged me and loved me in my time of need. I will never take it for granted. Your humanity is inspiring and I know I am a better person for it. In some strange way my illness has been a gift. I don't plan on squandering that gift. I hope your 2012 is as enlightening as mine has been.
Much love,
Ray Decker
