The Interview

“So how would you feel about writing the next blog update?” I asked.

Harold responded with a cautious agreement then followed with this question, “What should I say?

“Whatever you are thinking or feeling,” I replied. “People just need to hear your voice.” 

That discussion turned into an informal interview. 

Sharon:  Harold, how are you feeling?
Harold:  I feel great. I’m in a good place.
Sharon:  What does that mean?
Harold:  It means I really have faith that I’m going to be taken care of.
Sharon:  What does that faith do for you?
Harold:  I don’t worry all the time. Recently I realized I can go most of a day without remembering I have cancer.  I take my pills at the appointed times and forget about the rest.
Sharon: You feel that good?
Harold: I really do.

In the days since that discussion I’ve realized we often “interview” those we care about. Our questions are expressions of interest and concern. Sometimes it is hard to start those conversations for fear of offending or causing more pain. In our experience that doesn’t happen. We welcome your questions as well as your love and prayers.

  

And then there are doctors. 

They jump right to the point. Today was Harold’s first office visit since starting chemotherapy. His doctor hit him with a barrage of questions designed to determine his tolerance for the chemo pills and to look for signs his condition was getting worse.  After answering “no” to all of the questions, Harold humbly said, “I’m sorry Doctor. I’m really trying to find some pain, but I don’t have any.” There was a pause, and then they both burst out laughing.

Harold went on to explain that he had gotten up early to go on a two mile run then had spent the rest of the morning doing carpentry work. “It’s that Jones factor,” his doctor exclaimed. I really wish I could bottle it. It’s working better than the immunotherapy did.”

And today’s lab results indicated that something really is working. Harold’s tumor markers that spiked so dramatically at diagnosis, then came down during immunotherapy only to start back up again, have now dropped into the normal range. The ups and downs of our eight month cancer battle have taught us to be cautious with good news; but any way you look at it, today's lab results are encouraging.

“So Harold, how are you feeling?”

This is Harold writing:

I really do feel great.  There are moments that remind me that I have had brain surgery but not very many. 

I would like to thank my Father in Heaven for his tender mercy that is shown to all who come unto him.  Sharon has been such a support and loving companion.  She has written most of the blog and her spirit of optimism and talent of expression comes though with great clarity.  My family has been extraordinarily loving and have given of their time and talents and service to me, both when I have asked for their help and when I have not.   

I am thankful for all the friends and associates that have given a kind word, a thoughtful card, a prayer where I merit mention in their petitions to the Almighty along with their own challenges.  I thank all who have taken an interest in my welfare and that of my family.  May you all be blessed and may we all be granted peace this Thanksgiving season as we recognize the blessings we’ve already received.