Cancer feels no pity nor sorrow or even sympathy for the lives it decides to sideswipe. It does not baby you or give you a warm shoulder to lean on when times are tough. It will not give you charity or handouts of any way, shape, or form...Nope cancer is cancer.
I drive the same route from work, day in and day out and I see the same buildings, traffic lights, restaurants, car repair shops, gas stations, and so forth everyday. When my day ends, I step into my car and head towards that same route aware that around the next corner there will be a homeless man or two, hands extended asking for my change. My windows down, sunglasses on, and music a blaring a look straight into their eyes as if I am trying to dive into their soul...then I drive by my eyes locked to theirs without handing them a thing.
Its funny, I have always said I would never give hand outs to those on the street, heck, if anything they needed a job application. Like cancer, I never felt sorrow or pity for the lives that they live. It is not because I do not care about my fellow man, yet it is because I feel that my fellow man should care about himself...So I just drive on by eyes locked to theirs.
However, yesterday was different. I saw a man whom I've never seen on the curb and at a moment I felt different. He was an old, gray haired, hunch back man with a worn scrunched up face. His closes were tattered and the yellow sign he held was faded beyond legibility. My eyes locked to his, I removed my sunglasses to get a better look or understanding as to whom this guy was. He could hardly hold himself up and at first, I assumed he was drunk. He took a step forward and with every movement of his worn body, he shook. I thought to myself...this guy is different.
For some odd reason he forced a cancer flash back that put me in his shoes on that very curb. Now why I related having cancer to an old homeless man on a curb I do not know. Nevertheless, I do know that it made me think. I thought about how cruel cancer is to others. I thought about its remorseless character and in a moment, I reached...
Now maybe it was because you could see the years this man lived purely in his image. Maybe it was because his faded sign was proof that he had given up hope. Or maybe it was the extreme heat that forced me to sweat even in my air-conditioned car. What ever is was, something was different. My hand scooped up every nickel, dime, and penny I had in my coin rack. The light turned green and I extended my hand towards his and said, "here brother". He replied, "Thanks" in a scratchy voice. I smiled as I drove off thanking cancer for showing me that there is always a first for everything.
Many of you are aware of Hamilton Jordan's passing and the legacy he left behind. I have struggled with finding the time to absorb the loss and what it truly meant to me. I never knew Mr. Jordan directly; however, I was friends with his son during our summer camp years. This being said, Hamilton left an impression of greatness in the eyes of his unknowing admirers.
It was in a recent passage that I found my true appreciation for the man who touched millions of lives.
The passage reads, "Hamilton said he would always remember his "raw fear" at his initial diagnosis. But he also said he would never forget the focus, realization and sense of purpose his cancer brought him, too. He called it "the ironic blessing."
As a cancer survivor of 12yrs I can tell you that, the majority of those years has been spent understanding my diagnosis and how it affected who I am. Cancer did not define the type of person I am today, yet it defined a life worth living. It is through this passage that I saw a divine understanding to a commonly misunderstood "illness" that many struggle to find. Hamilton encompasses all the traits one would see in a warrior, an artist, and a prophet. In a single word, he is a survivor and a model to those who are traveling the seemingly blind path cancer lies.
He made it his life mission to give back through programs like Camp Sunshine, a place where I found a gradual understanding through the compassion of people who could relate to what I was facing. The experiences and friendships I received from this oasis are the stepping-stones of my life. I believe camp enabled me to better understand what life is about and how quickly it can pass you by; for this, I am forever thankful Mr. Jordan.
Here is to you dear Hamilton for showing us what it truly means to be a survivor of cancer. Through your legacy, it is clear that "there really is no such thing as a bad day."
I've been away on business for the past week. I am finally back in town and around a computer. Long story short, sorry for not posting or updating the quotes etc. I'm back in action and glad to be back kicken some cancer ass. Leave some love~
Through the realization of my experiences and our lasting relationship with one another, I figured it was a good time to tell you how I feel. We have had many conversations through the years you and me, some which have left me wanting more. However, it has always been like that between us, a tug-of-war relationship filled with give and take.
I remember when we first met, hell how could I ever forget. I was young; hell practically a baby in the eyes of the world but that did not bother you. If you recall, which I am sure you do not, the day was an exciting one for me. I woke up that Saturday twelve years ago excited to hit the field for a minor league baseball game. My excitement was fueled by a ferocious love of sports and a youthful appreciation for life. I remember my bat hitting the ball and as a rounded first base, you decided to cut in. HI, you said violently with an abrupt shortness of breath followed by a violent cough. This was your first attempt at meeting me. I shrugged off the odd pain and continued with my play, to be honest I cannot tell you the score of that game, who we played, or even the events that followed on that beautiful Saturday morning. What I can tell you is that this was the beginning of a love-HATE relationship that I am forever bound.
Weeks passed as you continued to make a mysterious appearance in my day-to-day life. Your HI grew into HELLO and your HELLO grew into HOW ARE YOU's as my conditioned worsened. The more I ignored your presence the louder you seemed to scream at my soul, until one day your voice grew too loud. After many trips to the doctor where you always seem to follow, we found ourselves marching through the white hallways of a cold hospital corridor. As I passed an unfamiliar sign that read "Oncology" in big bold letters, you somehow managed to whisper, "This is no good". As the doors opened, we were directed to a small room where in the middle set a large round table occupied by many lab-coated doctors. I have to admit, intimidation was never one of my worries up until this moment, thank you for this lesson dear friend. As my family and I set amongst these doctors, I remember wondering what events would follow. You would not let me forget the bold red word that will forever burn red in my mind. Oncology what did it mean?!? What ever it's meaning, no good was to come, at the time anyways. A doctor interrupted my thoughts with this heart felt sentence, "Mr. and Ms. Presnell, we believe your son has C A N C E R. This was it, you finally caught my attention and for the first time I learned your name. I had no clue who you were or the impact you would so vividly impose on my life. This quickly showed when I muttered the comment, "Can I still play football"....AH the innocents you stole! FUCK YOU for taking that from me.
That year was the hardest year I have experienced to date. The give-take relationship at this point was all TAKE and you never seemed to mind. You stole my childhood wonder, imagination, innocence, and joy. In there place you filled my mind with pure unadulterated hate and anger for the life I was cursed to live during that year. You managed to form questions such as "Am I going to die?" in a young mind. What ten year old ask this question!!! Again, FUCK YOU for that. You took from me football; a sport that I loved like it was family. YOU forced me to stand on the sidelines and watch the other kids enjoy my passion; I need you to know that this killed me. It was not enough for you to cast physical harm on my frail body yet you needed the satisfaction of ripping my emotions apart. The torment of losing my passion coupled with the feelings of being an outcast in the eyes of my classmates was devastating. Do not interrupt my thought with you excuses of a future life filled with a greater appreciation...NO, I am not there yet and I am not finished telling you what you took. You forced me to worry and worry and worry about my physical appearance in the eyes of others. You caused me insurmountable pain with torture like treatments one uses to rid their selves of you cancer. I can truly say it was as painful to keep you as it was to get rid of you. The doctors and I fought you with poisonous chemo and invasive test that would make the hardest of men beg for mercy. You made me work to kill you while all along you were working to kill me.
Month's passed and the day came when I was able to tell you goodbye. That day was the most wonderful day of my life. You were GONE and I had won. You smiled and I smiled back as our tearful goodbyes were spoken. Today I sit some 12 years later and 12 years wiser a man shaped by you dear cancer. Through all the anger and hate, I can honestly say that I am forever thankful for our relationship. I am thankful that you were able to open my eyes to a life that is truly worth living. I am thankful for the humble lessons you forced me to learn. I am thankful for the warrior I am today. Moreover, dear cancer, I am thankful to have known you. I ask that you pick your future students wisely. If you must introduce yourself to others may they have the strength to understand your lessons and the fight to tell you goodbye. I hope we never meet again cancer, but if our paths are to cross in my old age, rest assure in the fact that a warrior will be there to once again smile in your presence.
Forever Your Survivor,
Preston Presnell Founder, TLN
I encourage each of you to sit down when you find the time and write a letter to cancer. Laura Ellen suggested this to Captain a few weeks ago after we all found out that Captain received some bad news. I think we can all relate to each other's feelings when it comes to our dear old friend cancer. I look forward to reading your post! As always gang, show cancer just who the hell you are!
Thursday, February 28, 2008, 03:32 PM EST
[General]
Had my appendix removed two days ago during a procedure called laparoscopy appendectomy. I started having intense pain in my abdomen and lower back Monday night. At about 6am Tuesday morning I made the call to head to the ER in hope for some relief so I could sleep. Well 14 hrs later, I was an appendix short and very happy.
As I laid there right before the surgery in a place that I felt at home (hospital) I could not help but to think about how people not affected by cancer might feel if in my current position. I can honesty say, all macho bs aside, that I was not the least bit afraid of the operation, hospital, doctors lingo, nurses, drugs, multiple questions, or time spent waiting (14 hrs). Even more so I felt at ease with the situation, almost as comfortable as I feel lying in my own bed. Now this is probably due to a hospital-spent childhood, either way I smiled because I was appreciative. Cancer now allows me to find peace in moments of normal despair and fear. Thank you cancer...
