The bell.
Anyone battling cancer and having to visit the infusion centers for either chemo or radiation knows about the bell. This one hangs in the UAB infusion cancer center on Acton Road near the 65/459 interchange. It hangs there so that patients who finish their doctor prescribed rounds of therapy can ring it to signify the end of their treatments and are considered "NED" which means "No Evidence of Disease." Only a few times in our many visits to that infusion center did we get to hear the bell being rang by a hopeful patient. I say hopeful because one of the first things we were told by her first Oncologist was "once you are a cancer patient, you will always be a cancer patient." Not a very hopeful statement, is it? What he meant was she can go through the treatments and surgeries and if scans show no signs of cancer, that doesn't mean she is cured. It just means it's not there right now. So repeated scans would be required basically for the rest of her life at longer and longer intervals just as long as she remains NED. Back to the bell...
Personally I hate the bell. It signifies a completion. It's never complete. It signifies a victory. Victory comes at the end of something, not somewhere in the middle. Cancer never ends. Anyone that has it, or has cared for someone that has it, knows the fear of "scan day" and even if they have been NED for 5, 10, 15 years or even more, the fear that a single spot will show up is still there... Once a cancer patient, always a cancer patient.
Kristi rang the bell, as you can see in the image below, after the first 11 infusions of chemo. She skipped the 12th because 1) the chemo poison was brutal and ripping her body to shreads, and 2) her scans showed NO EVIDENCE OF DISEASE... "You're done. You're cured," said her first Oncologist, the same one that told us "once a cancer patient, always a cancer patient." We were overwhelmed with gratitude and thankfullness. Just look at her face in that photo. She really thought it was over. We all did. Such a huge load of ••••••• that statement was from the doctor. I understand "hope" and wanting to instill hope in the hearts and minds of these patients, because to the patient, well this is the best way I can describe it:
Imagine a boxing match where the opponents are terribly unequal in size, strength and stamina. One seems to never stop moving, swinging and connecting on every punch to the head, midsection, and below the belt, over and over, while the weaker opponent can only put up its gloves to try to block even just one of the jabs, with no one to ring the bell to end the round, no referee to stop the match when the weaker boxer gets knocked down to the ground countless times, and no winner. Never a winner. No prize. No title belt. That is cancer.
Why write this? It's so depressing. Why now? Here's why - cancer is so prevalent nowadays that just hearing that someone has acquired it tends to get a half-hearted "oh no, so sorry" from many people. I was one of those people, so I know they exist. It's one of those things that the more you hear it, the less devastating news it becomes. That's just the reality of it. It doesn't make it right. In prior years, St. Jude Hospital commercials were just another commercial to me in the middle of a tv show... "poor kids, so sad, I hope they find a cure for childhood cancer, etc." Half-hearted, halfway listening, oh well, halftime's over...back to the game.
The cancer is real. It should be dealt with swiftly and permanently. Pharma needs to stop treatment research and find a damn cure. One would think that since Kristi is mere hours to days away from losing her life to this disease that I would quit caring - because our cancer issues will basically be over, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I have very dear friends and family that still have it and fighting for their lives. And at the growing rate of cancer patients these days, the chances someone reading this will acquire it is very strong. I could even be next. That's reality. I'm not one to ignore reality, since I live in it. Makes sense, right?
Kristi's battle against cancer will not simply fade away into the Hallmark/Hudson family history. I am determined to go above and beyond. I'm not sure how yet but I will be considering options on how to finally get to a cure. This disease is from the pit of hell and it needs to go back and then... THEN we can ring the bell one final time for the completion, the victory.
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