Well, if that title doesn’t get your attention, there’s nothing more I can do. But it isn’t a joke, it isn’t meant to be satire, and it isn’t a lie – I’m thankful that I have lung cancer.

No, She Isn’t on Too Many Medications

This will require some explanation, as of course any cancer diagnosis is devastating, and this disease takes so very much from you, your partner, your immediate and extended family, your friends, your wallet, your livelihood – the list goes on. But, over the past four months since the tumor in my lung was first confirmed and everything that has followed since, cancer has also given me a great deal that I have to be thankful for.

First, the basics and most obvious – I’m grateful and thankful to have very good health insurance, despite the incessant paperwork and occasional snarls, which means I can receive the care I need without too much arguing or extreme financial hardship. I’m also thankful to live where I have a superb team for oncology, pharmacy, thoracic surgery, nursing, chemotherapy, radiology, and other treatments – I’ve encountered nothing but compassion, professionalism, and expertise from every angle.

Naturally, I’m beyond and forever thankful that my lung cancer was caught early, that my primary care physician didn’t dismiss that itty bitty teeny weeny bit of blood I was coughing up and instead insisted on the x-ray that started this all. This means I have more treatment options available, and I’m in the 5% of cases of this type of lung cancer that may actually be fully cured, rather than become lifelong management. Furthermore, because I’m younger – diagnosed at 48, when the average age of this diagnosis is 70 – I am better able to physically withstand harsher, more aggressive treatments and recover fully.

I couldn’t possibly be more grateful for my husband and family, who have provided such intense support in ways they never should have to do. Without complaint, hesitation, or misgivings, they have been here for me, and not everyone is so fortunate.

Deeper Gratitude and Thankfulness

But my thankfulness goes so much deeper, and I’ve learned and grown so much through this disease.

I’ve always been a loner, socially isolated by choice and content with that. By the nature of my work as a freelance writer, I’m also isolated professionally, without an office, water cooler, break room, or other social gathering place.

Turns out, I’m not nearly so isolated as I believed just four months ago. Once I shared the news – as I must do for my own reality and acceptance – my digital friends immediately reached out, connected, and offered support in different ways. From my special “Daddy Birb” friend who has become a daily lifeline to a friend in Utah who suggested the gift registry as a way to offer support to a distant friend on the opposite coast who has shared her own cancer experiences, I’ve had so many people reach out, and am so overwhelmed with gratitude for those connections.

I’m so thankful for the wide variety of resources I’ve discovered – volunteers who drive me to chemotherapy appointments, support groups sharing their own experiences, personally matched mentors who can answer a multitude of questions. These resources have all been so helpful to keep me grounded, relieve stress, and help me process what is so overwhelming.

Professionally, I am so grateful and thankful for my steadfast clients. While I have lost work in these past months, as is the nature of news deadlines that cannot wait, not a single one has expressed misgivings or sought a replacement writer. Not only have they been beyond flexible with the work I am able to do, but they have constantly reassured me that they aren’t going anywhere and they will be ready whenever I may be up to additional assignments. Furthermore, they have even reached out with well wishes and offered support beyond just work, proving that professional relationships go far past a paycheck. It has taken me more than 20 years to build my business and so much hard work to rebuild after the pandemic, it’s joyous to know this disease will not be taking away my livelihood.

Thankful for the Horizon

Today, I’m also grateful that finally, the horizon is in sight. While the past four months have been a whirlwind, this journey too will end. I have now completed three of my four scheduled chemotherapy infusion treatments – and all the misery that accompanies each one, as the side effects are more brutal than can be imagined – with one more to come in early December.

Following that final treatment and after recovery from it, the next step will be removal of the port in my chest, a constant reminder that I’m not well and a constant physical ache and irritant. I will also be moving on to a targeted therapy drug to suppress my body’s “talent” for mutation and creating this cancer again. That will be a daily pill I will take likely for the rest of my life, or until my condition changes.

Yes, there will be future scans and check ups, and ongoing blood tests to monitor for any recurrence. Yes, I will remain a cancer patient for the rest of my life. Yes, I’ve been forever changed by this diagnosis and what it has done to me, those I love, and all of life around me.

But I will not be letting this disease define my life, for all the years I have to live it. For that, I’m most thankful of all. What I’ve experienced, what I’ve learned and adapted to, will help me to make better choices and take happier paths in the years to come. There is so much to be thankful for today, and so much more to be thankful for in the future.

I hope the same is true for you, no matter what your journey may be and what you are most thankful for in every moment.