I am marking another landmark date… 3 years since the doctor told me the words that would change my life in ways I never thought would happen.

It caused me to stop working, and completely halted my career.
It caused me to move to a different province.
It forced me to change any plans I had for retirement or my future.
It has made me understand more than I ever thought possible about my own body physiology.
It helped me understand the amount of energy I use, and how to manage my lifestyle to prevent becoming too tired.
It has forced me to re-evaluate everything I do, and why I do it.
It has made me investigate options, hobbies, and things I never thought I would be doing, or involved in doing.

Many people only associate Cancer with death – if you didn’t die, everything is the same – right?

I have a something I tell people to help them understand the impacts:

Imagine your retirement or future plans, are written on a whiteboard or chalkboard – erase everything and start over. Seems easy until you get to the next step — which is that you can’t start writing on that board yet. You don’t know when you can start writing out your future plans again.

What used to be discussions about our future, my wife and I mostly discuss the timelines of when we might be able to start planning again.
Not nearly as much fun – trust us.

Either way – I am now 3 years into this journey.  I still don’t know what the end result will be, not what the final impacts on my capability to continue the life I had will be.  As the treatments roll on, my rate of recovery is slower, and slower.  That is not fun.

But, this will end eventually – just don’t know when.  Not knowing when this phase will end is probably the most frustrating part.

Thanks for taking the time to join me on this journey.  It becomes obvious to me who is actually reading this as I talk to people I know.
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thanks again.


  • Colleen H

    Thank you for sharing this. Your whiteboard analogy is very helpful. I am embarrassed to admit that I have never thought about what it’s like to not be able to make new plans for the future for someone is living with cancer. My heart goes out to you as you continue to live in limbo. And thank you for explaining what the “limbo” is like for someone living with cancer.

  • Barry

    Happy 3rd Cancerversary Rob,
    Thanks for sharing your journeys. Knowing you and seeing how you explain things really adds to the message. Never stop being you!

  • The whiteboard analogy hits home. I understand more of what my parents went thru when mom had cancer. I am thankful, Rob, that you can get treatment that works. It totally sucks what you (and Sherry) are going through with this effing disease. Thinking of you both

  • John St Dennis

    Can’t believe its been 3yrs since that day. In some ways it seems like yesterday and in others like an eternity. The white board analogy sounds very familiar since my injury and im going to borrow it. Hang tough and keep fighting the good fight my friend.

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