Day Seven - Gratitude, Empathy, and the Strength to Keep Fighting

January 14, 2025

Today has been a day of contrasts—moments of progress mixed with emotional and physical challenges. Navigating this journey is teaching me just how much patience, perseverance, and grace it takes to face the unknown.

First, I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to the nurses and medical technicians. Their compassion and professionalism make all the difference in an environment that can feel cold and clinical. Every kind word, every gentle touch, every moment of listening with intent—they may seem small, but they mean everything to someone lying in a hospital bed, vulnerable and uncertain. These caregivers are the unsung heroes who bring humanity to medicine.

But not all interactions inspire that same confidence. Today, during a discussion with the doctor about my next steps, I noticed the physician’s assistant scrolling on her phone and casually chatting with the pharmacist in the room. It might seem trivial to some, but to me, it was a stark reminder of how vital empathy is in these moments.

When a patient is trying to process complex, life-changing information, every detail in the room matters. The tone of the conversation, the body language, even eye contact—it all communicates whether the people around you truly see you, not just as a medical case, but as a person. That interaction today left me feeling dismissed, like I wasn’t worth their full attention. People going through something like this don’t just need technical expertise; they need to feel respected and valued. We may not understand the complexities of the system, but we deserve the courtesy of being treated as equals in the conversation. Empathy costs nothing but makes an immeasurable impact.

Physically, I’ve been on my feet a bit more—perhaps too much. I’m still tender from yesterday’s procedure, and my body reminds me to take it slow. It’s a balancing act, finding the line between staying active and honoring the need for rest.

The latest update on my condition brings us closer to clarity. They’ll be removing more tissue to pinpoint the exact nature of this Large B-Cell Lymphoma. Understanding the specifics is essential to crafting the best treatment plan. It’s a painstaking process, but it’s one I know is necessary. I remind myself that this precision is what will guide us toward not just managing the cancer but curing it.

Emotionally, today has been heavier than most. It’s easy to feel the weight of it all in the quieter moments. But I’m reminded of how fortunate I am to have my wife by my side. Her love is my anchor, her strength my encouragement. Watching her navigate this with me, seeing her courage and resilience, gives me the motivation to push forward. This journey isn’t mine alone—it belongs to both of us, and her presence fills the space with a warmth that no amount of fear can erase.

As I reflect on today, I keep coming back to the importance of empathy—not just in others but in myself. It’s a reminder to show grace to the people who get it right and patience to those who fall short. And it’s a reminder to extend that same compassion inward, allowing myself to feel, process, and sometimes struggle, knowing it’s all part of the fight.

So, as the day comes to a close, I return to my mantra: “I can do this all day.” I may have lows, but they’ll never outshine the highs. With determination, love, and a belief in better days ahead, I’ll face tomorrow with the same resolve.