Forever is our today by Christi L. Drake

I asked my friend Christi to write up a little something for the site about her experience. She has gone from being given 6 weeks to live, to being given the "all clear". I am so proud of her spirit and determination, and also amazed at the number of people - friends, family and even complete strangers who sent their prayers, positive thoughts and general good wishes to Christi during her journey.

Here are her thoughts:

Forever is our today. This sums up what it’s like to live as someone who has a terminal illness. You are forced to make memories which have to last a lifetime and always seem to come up short.

My mother and sister were with me at the oncologist’s office on the day I received the biopsy results. I didn’t break down and cry or believe it was the end. I knew it was serious and that I had better get my shit together, so to speak. I asked my family to leave the room so I could talk to the doctor. I said, “Okay…so what are we talking about here, really?” He said, “About six weeks.” He recommended I start chemotherapy right away with radiation to follow. I agreed because I was ready to hit it and hard.

It took a long time for me to really cry over being told I was “sick”. I was dumbstruck trying to find what I thought might be the appropriate response to living with lung cancer. How could this happen to me – a non-smoker? What did people do when they were given this type of information? Cry for days? Give up? Deny it? I just couldn’t find an answer…

How in the world were my two toddlers going to remember me? Mommy would just be someone in a picture or whose jewelry or lock of hair they touched trying to remember what it felt like to be in her presence. These thoughts gave created a deep sinking feeling inside which paralyzed me with fear and sadness. I am thankful the terrifying moments were fleeting.

My self-esteem had suffered since I was young and I didn’t believe in myself…in my own strength. It wasn’t long after being diagnosed, however; that my true self came forward…a woman of action, immediacy and strength with a positive nature to support what I knew would be torturous times.

I never felt compelled to read anything about cancer, whether in print or online. I know some cancer patients savor every scrap of information they can find to feed their need to be actively involved in their own care. But somehow, I quietly knew that I was going to be okay. I believed it, lived it, said it and even dreamed about it.

At night, I would visualize the cancer being engulfed in a white light, rolled up into a ball and hurled out into space. I begged and cried for whatever mysterious creator and/or protector who might hear me to obliterate the mass and never allow it to return.

During the illness, I would sometimes have the distinct feeling it was not about me. It seemed to be more about other people in my life…that they had something to learn from it. I knew I had the strength to weather the treatment and ensuing sickness. I knew I was going to be okay and that this was an experience I was meant to have.

I have come to believe that we are all here for a purpose much greater than ourselves…to learn how to overcome negativity and grow and expand our soul. One of my favorite phrases is “Don’t block the way and the way will carry you.” The exact meaning and how it applies to our life is something we must each figure out.


Christi L. Drake
10/18/05