Chapter 2 - The Eye of the Storm

It’s difficult to put into words exactly how one is feeling as they go through this process of “accepting” the unthinkable. I can only imagine how Kecia actually felt as she came to grips with the news she was forced to tell everyone who loves her. For me, it was a time of great “role confusion”. I wanted to be there for Kecia in whatever way that was. I just didn’t know how to do that. When she would talk about not treating the Cancer, I would feel a heavy sickness in the pit of my stomach and my mind would scream “tell her she can’t do that…she has to try and treat it…she can’t just do nothing”. Surely it was my job to be her cheerleader, right? Wasn’t this the part where I encouraged her to do whatever it took to get better? Isn’t that how we are supposed to support a person in Kecia’s situation? It seemed so. But I would always stop myself. As much as I hated to admit it, there was another way in which she may need my support. Over the next 4 days I prepared myself for the horrible idea that it might be my job to support her in doing nothing. I might have to be the one who told her it was okay if she didn’t want to endure the endless rounds of chemo and the misery and sickness that would accompany it. It might be my job to help her die. I knew that Kecia didn’t want to die. What 28 year old in the prime of their life does? But I did understand that if there was no chance of getting better, and if chemotherapy could only buy her a few more miserable months, then I was only being selfish to expect her to endure that for the benefit of those she would eventually be leaving behind. I immediately began praying fervently for Kecia ; for peace, for comfort from her debilitating pain, for clarity of thought as she made life and death decisions, and for a miracle on her behalf. According to the doctors, only a miracle could save her, so that’s what I asked for.

The first of my prayers was answered when Kecia’s true spirit emerged through the fog of fear and confusion. The determination and fight that has gotten her through so many difficult times in her young life erupted in full force. She decided she was not ready to go willingly at this point. She refused to lay down and die (quite literally) and geared herself up for the fight of her life. She knew this would no doubt be the most difficult and frightening thing she would ever do, but she would not do it alone. The first few days following her decision to seek treatment were like a blurr of activity. When asked how this was all going to play out, her doctor said “first we will try to control the cancer growth in an effort to buy you 3 or 4 months. If we are successful we will go for 6 months, and then a year. If we can get past a year we will look for another and another..one at a time and hopefully they will have a treatment that can rid the bone of cancer in time for you.” Honestly, that didn’t sound too encouraging, but we chose to hang on to the last of his words. We made the phrase “until there’s a cure” our motto. It had a realistic sound to it. It was a goal that seemed reachable. With all the money that goes into cancer research there could be a treatment for bone cancer in 5 years. That would be our finish line. That would be Kecia’s light at the end of her dark and frightening tunnel. She would just have to be here 5 years from now, whatever that took.

Her doctors set the ball in motion immediately because they knew there was not a moment to waste. Her Cancer was growing at enormous rates and time was not her friend. She had surgery to implant a medi-port in her chest. She underwent days of full body scanning so they could get accurate measurements and precise locations of her tumors. And radiation began within a week of diagnosis. In the meantime, friends and family rallied around her for encouragement and support. Prayer chains were enacted. Meals were delivered. The actual words were never spoken, but somehow, we all silently agreed that while Kecia was on the path for recovery, we would not speak of the grim and terrifying prognosis she was given that first day. We would not play the “what if” game. We would be single minded in her fight against Cancer. She had conveyed to us that she only wanted to undergo treatment if there was a chance that she could beat it. So with her decision to treat, we chose to believe that her chance at beating Cancer would come in the form of a miracle.