LORI’S FIGHT

I stupidly posted my latest kidney stones attack on Facebook before I realized how lame I am and deleted it.

My “big news” was online for a few hours, just long enough for Cousin Lori to see it and comment, “I’m so sorry. I know how painful that is. Get feeling better soon.”

I felt so ashamed. I’m complaining about minuscule calcium deposits while Lori’s at war with metastatic stage 4 breast cancer.

She got the news in the fall of 2013, the day before her 46th birthday.

Lori hasn’t wasted a minute on self-pity since the diagnosis. She’s remained upbeat and enthusiastic through 10 rounds of chemo, followed by hormone therapy, followed by a hysterectomy in January and a lumpectomy in February. Radiation is next.

Her body has been ravaged from outside as well as from within.

She should be exhausted. She should be discouraged. She is neither.

Lori’s faith in God remains strong, her trust in her physicians unwavering and her love of family continues to be bigger than any disease.

She refuses to be denied another 25 years with her rock, John. She will not miss the birthdays, job promotions and awards that await Erika, Jenny and Matthew. She will live to be a grandmother.

You’d never know she was sick if she wasn’t bald. Lori remains full of life; raising money for cancer research, traveling with her husband, working when she can, visiting her devoted children, donating blood for researchers, working out at the gym … and loving everyone in her world, even distant cousins with stomach pains.

Lori simply will not complain.

I often think of this December 2013 post from her blog: “This is my 6th ‘rough’ weekend, as I have come to think of them. I was told before they injected that first dose of poison into my veins, that I would feel bad on days 3,4 & 5 … All the “resting” gives me time to think! I am NOT complaining, as I have been quite fortunate!! I basically just feel tired, a little shaky and the slightest discomfort in my bones from the $12,000 Neulasta shot they give me the day after my chemo treatments. So far, the chemo is working, so I am VERY fortunate! I haven’t had to cut off one or both of my breasts, or make the difficult decisions about reconstruction and the surgeries and pain that go along with that.”

Sixteen months later, the tumors are a bit smaller than they were on that “rough” weekend. And Lori still feels fortunate.

I’m so glad she feels that way. But Lori, dear, we’re the fortunate ones. Those of us who love you are so very fortunate because you love us back.

Get better Cuz.

Gary Corsair Executive Editor gary@akersmediagroup.com

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