Realistic and optimistic at the same time

Sometimes I have difficulty figuring out how to do something until I am able to articulate just what needs to be done. My challenge this time is transitioning my focus from Robert’s 10-month (so far) fight against melanoma – surgery, recovery, deciding what treatment course to follow, and clinical trial of an experimental melanoma vaccine – to a less active battle against a recurrence of the disease.

I’m still not sure how I’ll deal with the uncertainty of “watchful waiting,” which begins after the scans scheduled for the end of April – our last of seven monthly visit to Johns Hopkins University Hospital for the GVAX trial. But I’m better able to take a step forward because of a response to my last post from Paul, a melanoma survivor who took time to respond on the Melanoma Patient Information Page (MPIP) sponsored by the Melanoma Research Foundation. He was also wondering what it would be like once he finished the GVAX trial – ready to assume a good outcome, but at the same time thinking he had to be “brutally realistic” so that he would be prepared if his cancer returns.

Here’s what Paul said that helped me over the rut I was in: “I have come to think that realism and optimism are not incompatible.” Once I was able to articulate that goal, I was able to take the first step toward reaching it.

Another person who responded on the MPIP described my state of mind as feeling like the “Sword of Damocles is hanging over your head all the time.” In some ways that analogy works for me – though unlike Damocles I don’t have the choice of leaving Dionysius’s throne and going back to the simple life of a peasant to escape the sword hanging from a horsehair. After living through two months of believing that Robert’s cancer was metastatic and fearing that he had less than a year to live, the knowledge that he’s had no evidence of disease (NED) since last June has seemed like a gift. And, I am optimistic that this gift is renewable – that he will be NED again in the April scans. Perhaps that feeling is not the opulence of Dionysius’s feast, but it’s just as welcome!

The realistic side of this state of mind tells me that it’s a good idea to continue reading the MPIP regularly and to write more about melanoma research so that I’ll be up on “the latest” if Robert’s cancer recurs. I’ll spend some time building out this website, too, so that I can share what I learn with others who need to keep up on the subject as well.

It’s a start – a first step. I’ll be ready for the next one – next week, after Passover seder.

Happy holidays, all!