Today marks my husband's second "birthday" as he calls it. Two years that he's been NED. Two years since he started Keytruda.
As we celebrate this day, I remember where we were just four years ago. Faced with a Stage IV diagnosis, a tumor ensnared around his spinal cord, the despair of a failed clinical trial and all two weeks before our wedding.
Fast forward two weeks from then … Despite undergoing major back surgery, Joe got on a plane and we flew to Vegas to get married on the day we had planned, June 1, 2013. Our overall amended wedding/honeymoon plans now included driving up to Lake Tahoe to visit with vacationing family and then return to Vegas to fly home to Pennsylvania.
But by the time we made it to Tahoe, the trip was taking a toll on Joe and we had to fly home from Reno just two days after arriving there.
At all the airports during our travel, I was pushing Joe around in a wheelchair and he wore a pretty heavy-duty back brace. If someone asked what was wrong, Joe just said, "I had back surgery." He didn't share the cancer drama.
At Reno, we boarded our Southwest plane first and got settled in the first row. Joe next to the window, I in the middle seat. Next to me sat an older gentleman. He asked Joe what was wrong and, to my surprise, Joe revealed: "I've got cancer. I had a tumor around my spinal cord." The guy said wow and wished him well.
As the plane sped down the runway for takeoff, the man turned to me and said, "I had cancer too. Twice." "Wow," I said back, wondering in my head what kind he had.
As the plane soared into the air, he turned to me and said, "It was melanoma. Twenty years ago when there really wasn't any treatment at all. It was under my armpit and in my lymph nodes." This is EXACTLY how Joe's melanoma had resurfaced after 18 years of being "gone." Just seven months before his back tumor.
I feel that day, as we flew thousands of feet in the air, we were touched by a hope angel.
That the road ahead might be rough. That more surgeries might be in our future. But that more important than anything was to never give up, to always have hope.
The reason I share this story with you? My sincerest wish is that it brings you hope, at this moment you so yearn for it like I did that day, whether you're reading this at 35,000 feet or while sitting at home nestled on your couch.
All the best always,
Kimberly
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