Telling my story in the profession I’m in is difficult.  I struggle with walking the line of professionalism as a therapist and personally over-sharing.  So here goes my attempt at both:

My spouse and best friend was diagnosed with cancer in 2009.  At the time of diagnosis, we had three wonderful children.

When you hear the words:


and chemo

and radiation

and lifespan;

the meaning of life really does change in an instant.

We had an incredible team of doctors, and an enormous amount of faith.  The process of healing from cancer is interesting.  Tearing down one’s immune system so that it will come back bigger and better, is let’s just say, NOT FUN.

We went on this terrifying ride.  We heard good news that we celebrated, and relapses that were devastating.  All the while knowing and praying that life would return to us in a way that would make sense again.  I know now that hoping as hard as we did, and believing as confidently as we did, is what got us through four years of a valiant fight.

We would stare at our “Never, Never, Never Give Up” magnet on the fridge daily.  Our life was loving each other, and our children, with the same intensity that we used to wage war on these cancer cells.  The more aggressive the cancer got, the more aggressively we loved, prayed, and visualized wholeness.

Last year, we lost our battle.  It wasn’t due to lack of anything.  The cancer just won.

My perception of life has so radically altered, that I am left with the knowledge that love does conquer all.  This may sound ridiculous, however, I have found that through intense suffering really does come intense love, learning, strength, and oddly, a profound appreciation. This way of thinking sustains me.

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