Thank you Frank

Frank is a good friend who I met through Simplicity Blog and my book Simplicity is the Key. We first corresponded about three and a half years ago.

My initial connection with Frank was when he gave me some really helpful and insightful comments about my writing style and my book content.

Ever since those first rich comments over three years ago I’ve regularly sought and valued Frank’s feedback on my writing. I’ve sometimes sent Frank my written material for feedback before I publish it.

I was shocked in October 2008 when Frank told me he had recently been diagnosed with Colon Cancer. We have kept in touch and the latest email I had from Frank moved me so much I asked him if he minded if I publish his words on my Blog. I’m happy to say Frank agreed.

Everyone knows someone touched by Cancer and if you are like me you sometimes wonder in your private moments ‘How would I cope with the diagnosis of Cancer?’

Frank’s words below are just inspiring to me.

He is facing his uncertain future with pragmatism, a sense of humour, honesty and most of all bravery.

Thank you Frank and rest assured many prayers are with you. I'm pretty sure there will be many more prayers after Simplicity readers have have absorbed Franks powerful words.

This is a part of what Frank wrote to me in his most recent email:

“I have just finished my own first six chemo laps. The last ones were pretty tough, but they are already history and long forgotten :-)

The results were mixed. Deep down secretly you hope for some sort of recovery over time, which means that the volume of cancer cells has to drop, at least gradually. However I seem to have reached a plateau which is flagged as ‘stable.’

Neither significant improvements nor significant deteriorations. So although this is a sort of OK, it's not the one you mention as your childhood's dream;

‘What do you wanna be when you grow up?’

‘Stable Miss’ :-)

So as long as it doesn't deteriorate I should be able to get a life again by following a lighter continuous chemo regime (without the heavy stuff). I have to find out in the next couple of months what this would mean for the quality of life (how do I regain physical fitness, can I work again, part time yes/no etc.) Also nobody knows how long these stable periods will last. It could be 9 weeks as a minimum or maybe even a couple of years. We just have to find out.

So the bad news is that I got a lifetime sentence where you run your steeple chase, try to stay ahead of competitors with reapers and hope that science finds additional cures just in time.

The good news is that I haven't lost my sense of humour and day by day life is not bad at all. You just have to learn to live with uncertainty and accept that you are no longer Master of your own life (come to think of it: Was I ever).

So given the fact that the road took an unexpected left or right turn (whichever you prefer as a metaphor) I am enjoying the trip, see where it goes, look for silver linings, be grateful for all the good stuff and try to accept the nasty things :-)”

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