Lyndsay’s Story

March 28th, 2019 was the day my life changed forever. For the rest of time, that day will be a bookmark of before and after. Derek and I had just celebrated our wedding in July of 2018. I was around 26 weeks pregnant. One moment I was living out everything I had ever prayed for and the next I was hysterically crying as I heard the words “cancer and Leukemia” come out of the doctor’s mouth. 

That February, Derek had been sick for weeks. He went to the doctor repeatedly getting test after test, antibiotic after antibiotic, nothing was helping, but after a few long weeks he finally turned a corner, or so we had thought. Derek began having other weird symptoms shortly after. He would bleed easily when flossing or shaving, he had an abnormal amount of bruises and his complexion was pale. We would soon find out that these were all signs of low platelets. Other people began commenting on Derek’s appearance and it was becoming apparent that he should probably go back to the doctor. We were in Arizona with my family and Derek was supposed to be leaving for another trip as soon as we returned home. The concern was growing, and I remember telling Derek that I would be a lot more comfortable if he just went to the doctor before he traveled again. He hesitated but told me if I made the appointment, he would go. I picked up the phone and called his doctor back home right then.  I felt slightly stupid requesting they do blood work for Derek, but it ended up saving his life— at least for a while. 

It was the morning after we had returned from Arizona. I went to work early and Derek went to get bloodwork done. Right after his appointment he went back out to the tractor to farm. I was texting Derek all morning anxiously awaiting his lab results. Surely he just had a deficiency or something going on. I was standing in the bank when Derek called me and said his doctor needed him to come back in and asked if I would meet him. All he had mentioned to me at that point was “something with his white blood cells.” I remember immediately feeling sick to my stomach and it feeling like hours as I waited for the teller in the bank to finish my deposits. I was anxious to my core and rushed over to the doctor’s office right away. I beat Derek there and as I was sitting in my car waiting, I opened up a GoFundMe page that a good friend of mine had just shared. Her friend, the same age as Derek, had just been diagnosed with Leukemia. I saw the words “white blood cells” as I read through his story and my mind crashed. Minutes later, Derek was pulling up next to me. I didn’t even have time to tell him hi before a nurse opened up a side door to the building and yelled for us to come in— another terrible sign. Before I knew it, I was hearing a person’s worst nightmare become my reality as the doctor said it looked like Leukemia. There was already a room being prepared for Derek to begin treatment in Denver. No time to think. Sheer panic as I hysterically cried and looked down at the baby in my belly. Little did I know what would follow in the years to come and that my entire world would be rocked. 

We were given a very overwhelming amount of information in those first few days. Some of the highlights I remember being told was “we were at one of the best hospitals in the country for Leukemia treatment”— score! I also remember Derek being told “you have a good kind of Leukemia— it's highly treatable, people beat this all the time”— score again! The doctors told us everything we wanted to hear in that moment, which in reality is what we needed to stay in a positive mindset, but the cold truth was so far from that. The five years following feels like an entire other world, locked in a box. It feels like I stepped out of my own reality for an entire period of time as cancer had a literal chokehold on our lives. If it weren’t for God, I wouldn’t be writing this right now. If it weren’t for God, I wouldn’t be given the opportunity to share Derek’s story. If it weren’t for God, I wouldn’t be finding joy and purpose in all the pain I’ve endured. If it weren’t for God, the details wouldn’t have fallen together as perfectly as they did. Here is a glance at Derek’s cancer journey.

Derek ended up spending one month in the hospital as he underwent induction chemotherapy and multiple bone marrow biopsies. I slept on the couch next to him as he couldn’t go outside. Labs, blood cell counts, reports, doctors, blood transfusions and medications became the new normal. Derek handled the first round of chemotherapy as well as a person could— he only felt bad one day and otherwise looked good, felt good, was in great spirits, eating, enjoying having visitors— it really felt like we could just squash the bug and move on, but it was never going to be that easy. At that point, everything was going “good” so we never once questioned anything, but why would we? Why would anyone question their doctor and the people who are experts? We were doing what the doctors recommended and it seemed to be working. 

Derek was discharged at the end of April and sent home while they prepared for him to receive a stem cell transplant— the best option to keep the cancer from returning. None of his siblings were full matches so the original plan was for Derek to receive one half from his brother’s stem cells and the other half from donor stem cells (cord blood cells). Without much explanation other than “we think it will work better”, Derek’s team decided to instead move forward with a double cord transplant (two cord blood donors). Derek was admitted to the hospital on May 31st, less than four weeks before my due date. It was expected he would spend roughly one month in the hospital and then we would have to stay near the hospital until September due to the high risk for complications, infections and need for blood products. We had high hopes the baby wouldn’t come early, I was going to sleep on the couch in his room again and hopefully there would only be one to two weeks of him being in the hospital once the baby was here. After that, we would be staying with my parents. It all sounded like a good plan, but that’s when we learned you can never plan with cancer. Ever. 

Derek underwent more chemotherapy and multiple rounds of full body radiation prior to receiving his transplant to knock down his immune system and prepare his body to take the new cells. Derek became much sicker through this treatment and all of the typical “cancer patient” symptoms you see in the movies slowly unfolded. On June 7th, Derek received his new cells. Two days later, as I was sitting in Derek’s room in the BMT (bone marrow transplant) unit on the 11th floor, I was feeling super off. The day of Derek’s transplant I had experienced high blood pressure at my doctor’s appointment and was told if I had anything happen over the weekend, to go get checked. So I hopped in the elevator and went down to the labor and delivery unit on the 4th floor— before I knew it I was being admitted to have a baby. I was admitted that evening at shift change and my mom, sister, mother in law and sister in law all came to be with Derek and I. Elsie was born the next morning at 6:41am on June 10th. Derek made it to my room 5 or 10 minutes before she was here. He was fully gowned and masked, hooked up to multiple IVs and felt terrible, but we had our moment as we welcomed our baby and then Derek was back off to his room and Elsie and I were on our own. I didn’t know it then, but that was God preparing me for what was to come. 

It’s hard to explain the feeling when one of the literal best moments of your life— your first child being born coexists with one of the literal worst moments of your life— your husband almost dying. Derek continued to go downhill after the transplant and just a few days later on June 13th, my birthday, Derek was admitted to the ICU going into septic shock. I’ll never forget rocking my newborn baby, bawling my eyes out and praying to God all night. Derek was put on a ventilator, pressers for his blood pressure and CRRT (Continuous Renal Replacement Therapy). He had contracted a bacterial infection and because he had no immune system, it was taking over. He spent 12 days in the ICU. I remember the doctor’s telling us that this happened frequently and that he could pull through it— once again, giving us the optimism we needed but I also remember being so upset inside that we weren’t more informed on the reality and potential risks that the cancer treatment and transplant held. As I watched Derek barely hanging on, I remember wishing I would have done more. If only I would have known, or been more prepared, or mored educated, or, or, or...maybe none of this would have happened.

Derek pulled through and was eventually transferred back to the BMT unit. He continued to experience fevers for many days keeping him admitted longer, but he was finally discharged in July. That summer, as I cared for Elsie and Derek, I remember being filled with fear, like we barely made it out alive. Not only was I terrified of Derek getting sick again, but I wanted to do everything I could to keep my new baby as healthy as possible. At that time, my only knowledge in the cancer realm was coming directly from Derek’s team. As far as they were concerned— this transplant was going to work. Derek would take preventative chemotherapy pills following the transplant and would have routine blood work done. He would go on to take handfuls of pills coming out of the transplant and the only long term recommendations were to take a multivitamin and vitamin D supplement— yep— that’s it. Oh, and they warned him of several different cancers he was now at risk for later in life as a result from the treatment he received so he would need to be monitored in the future. I remember thinking how wild it all was, but at the same time it was so casual, so normal and coming from people in a place of trust. If they said we were doing all we could do, then surely we were, right? 

From that summer on, I became more and more aware of what we were putting in our bodies and exposing ourselves to and made small changes to our lifestyle. Through the next couple of years, Derek continued lab work and a couple medications but otherwise returned to “normal life.” Every couple months, when he was due for labs, the fear would creep back in, but I prayed and prayed that the cancer would never come back. It was August of 2022. We had just had the best summer. Derek’s lab appointments had just gone from every four months to every six months. But the reality was— we would be going in much sooner than that. That was the beginning of the end. One day, we noticed the symptoms again. The same ones that silently crept up on us a couple years prior. I kept telling myself it was nothing. Derek requested lab work and it immediately showed abnormal white blood cells— this time instead of being extremely elevated they were extremely low. It was an instant replay of that day in March. The same building, the same doctor, the same people, the same rush for more treatment. The same gut punch feeling— except this time much worse. This time we knew what we were dealing with. This time we had a three year old daughter. This time we had already exhausted our best option. This time was going to be much worse. 

Derek was admitted back to his original team in Denver. A biopsy confirmed that the Leukemia was back. I remember the doctor confirming the news and Derek and I sitting in silence. She told us the recommendation would be to move forward with another transplant— same process as before but more intensive chemotherapy. She told us this wasn’t uncommon to happen and I remember my blood boiling as once again, it seemed so casual. We never knew getting a second transplant was an option let alone something people had to do often. For the doctors, it was just another patient, another repeated scenario, another one size fits all treatment and what we thought was Derek’s best bet. 

Derek immediately started chemotherapy under his doctor’s recommendations and we were ready to battle the beast again but before we knew it, we were living in a nightmare. Due to new hospital restrictions and having a daughter— I was unable to stay with Derek at the hospital overnight so I was traveling back and forth everyday, 2 hours there, 2 hours home, to be with him and still be there for our daughter but things quickly unraveled and Derek was becoming increasingly sick very quickly. I remember being extremely worried on my drive home one day so I called Derek’s parents to see if they could go be with him. All of the horrific feelings from before were back. That night I received a call from Derek’s mom that Derek was not doing well and it was suspected he had an infection. Before I knew it, Derek was being transferred to the ICU, again. To our surprise, he turned around really quickly and after only around 48 hours, he was transferred back to the BMT unit. It was the biggest sigh of relief until it wasn’t. Once he was back in the BMT, I had decided to stay home one day to catch up on things. That morning I hadn’t heard from Derek and anytime this happened— I was sick to my stomach. I remember talking myself out of anything bad though, he was probably just resting. I had always worried myself for no reason and wasn’t going to do that again. But I should have. It was around 11am and I hadn’t heard from him so I finally decided to call his unit to check in. To my surprise, I was told a nurse had been with him all morning monitoring his breathing because he was struggling. Once again, a sucker punch. I was so upset no one had called. I contacted Derek’s parents and we threw our stuff together, got Elsie out of school and got to the hospital right away. When we arrived, Derek was not well, but stable. I can still remember the book I was reading as I sat in that dark room all day, just watching him sleep and staring at his vitals. The next morning, when we returned to see him, he once again did not look well. He was really struggling to breathe. I remember walking out of his room to get a nurse, her coming into check him and within minutes it felt like a scene out of Grey’s Anatomy. He needed to be immediately ventilated due to his oxygen levels. Everything was flashing before my eyes and people rushed and Derek was taken away. I remember feeling sick to my stomach and thinking— what if I had not been there? What if I had not said anything. I still remember bawling my eyes out as I gathered Derek’s belongings and walking to the ICU with his life in plastic bags. Moments later, I was signing more paperwork to put Derek on life support. 

Derek went on to spend 30 days in the ICU. Those were easily the darkest and more torturous days for me. Derek was ventilated, put on pressers for his blood pressure, his heart rate was through the roof, he was having constant extreme fevers and now the doctors were in a scramble to try to treat him. Every morning, Derek’s mom and I would go to the hospital around 7:00am and would sit there with Derek until 8:00 or 9:00 at night just waiting for anything. Days went on and Derek was showing no signs of improvement and tests and blood cultures continued to come back negative so doctors were struggling to find the source to treat what was happening. It wasn’t until about 10 — 12 days in that they finally got a positive result. A fungal infection sourced in the lungs, Aspergillus, something we all commonly breathe in. The doctor’s said it was probably in his system before the chemotherapy and when his immune system was shot down, it had taken over. In my head, I was so upset wondering why this was not the type of stuff they checked for ahead of time. They began to treat Derek and while he showed some improvement, he was still having fevers and still requiring life support. 

Derek was able to slowly be weaned off sedatives and was becoming more alert regardless of being ventilated. Around day 17, it was time to attempt extubation. This was it— Derek was going to be okay. The venilator was removed but the excitement was short lived. Derek was still on oxygen and very uncomfortable and honestly didn’t look well enough to be off the ventilator. Leaving that night was tough but we prayed and prayed it would all be okay. The next morning we were being knocked down again. We walked into Derek’s room and right away it was recommended he be again ventilated. The chaos started all over— people rushing, hollering and another goodbye to Derek as I walked away not knowing what would happen. For the third time in my life, I was signing paperwork for Derek to be ventilated. But I didn’t feel bad for me, I felt bad for Derek. All he wanted was to be healthy and it was being ripped away from him over and over again. 

The following four days from that moment were insane— something out of a movie. There is really no other words. Derek had four teams overseeing his case— ICU, BMT, infectious disease and renal. After his teams had met for their rounds one morning, two of Derek’s BMT doctors that we had known from day one made their way to Derek’s mom and I. We were sitting in a waiting room just down the hall from Derek. It didn’t take long for them to cut to the chase. His teams had collectively agreed that there was major concern over Derek coming back from this. They were concerned that his body was not responding to any treatment and that the infection was completely taking over. They felt as if he may never get off a ventilator and would have to spend the rest of his life in a facility. They also did not know if he was even in remission at that point from the chemotherapy but regardless, they said he wouldn’t be able to get further treatment because of the damage that had been done. They did say, they could give him a tracheotomy to make him more comfortable with the ventilator but that was it. Less than 24 hours ago I had thought everything was going to be okay and now I was being told it was game over, just like that. That wasn’t the worst part though. The worst part was going with the doctors and having to watch them tell Derek. There was no worse feeling knowing that all he wanted was to walk out of that hospital and that was going to be taken away from us all. 

Although Derek was ventilated, he was completely awake and coherent. He could listen and understand had even began writing on a white board to communicate. Most people wouldn’t have been able to make the decision for themselves but by God’s grace, Derek was able. The doctors told Derek they could take him off the ventilator and he would have minutes to hours to live. The second option was getting the tracheotomy but they explained he may never get off the venilator and they still didn’t know where the cancer stood. Derek wrote Elsie’s name on a white board and pointed to his throat. He wasn’t going to give up that easily.

It didn’t take long for people to show up after that. Over 100 people came to essentially say their goodbyes to Derek not knowing what was going to happen. For those couple of days, the waiting room was full as we all cried, prayed and tried to make sense of what was unfolding. Was this really all they could do? We were all trying so hard to grasp onto hope. People all over had been following Derek’s story and prayers all over the country, and even other parts of the world, were happening. It wasn’t even 48 hours later when true miracles started to happen. 

Derek had been in great spirits with all the visitors and everyone was able to communicate with him with the white board. It felt so weird because he oddly seemed okay and like himself despite the chaos that was actually happening around us. That Friday evening, as the visitors left and I was the last one, I remember Derek having a normal temperature reading. This was a huge deal because Derek had constant extreme fevers for over 3 weeks at this point, but until a patient goes around 48 hours with no fever— it doesn’t indicate much. I remember asking about his fevers first thing the next morning and still no fevers. The visitors continued that Saturday and still no more fevers. Sunday morning rolled around and we arrived at the hospital early as usual before any other friends and family. Derek’s brother and I were in the room with him and I can remember a new ICU doctor coming on. I heard him talking in the hall with a few colleagues and looking at images of Derek’s lungs and all I heard him say was “this could just be inflammation or scarring” (opposed to active infection) in reference to his lung images. I remember trying not to get overly excited but what if the infection really was going away. Maybe our prayers were being answered. 

Derek received his tracheotomy that day and although we were all feeling a little terrified by it, him choosing to get that tracheotomy was the best decision. Derek began to turn a corner pretty quickly after that. With his fevers stopping, being able to be more “mobile” with the trach and being completely awake and coherent, the boat started turning in the right direction. Physical therapy began working with Derek Monday and he wrote on his board that he wanted to be walking in a week. Derek hadn’t walked in at least 4 weeks at this point, but in typical Derek manner— he was walking in a week. With his body now responding to treatment for the infection and him doing so much better, his BMT team finally decided to move forward with another biopsy. I will never forget the moment. Derek and I were watching a movie in his ICU room when the BMT doctor walked in with good news, Derek was in remission. We couldn’t believe it. Everything that we thought was impossible had happened. Our prayers were answered right before our eyes.

Derek ended up eventually being transferred from the ICU to LTAC and then to a rehab center for a week. I’ll always remember our first meeting with the doctor at the rehab center and he was surprised to see Derek simply because he was doing so well. He told Derek “he didn’t belong there” and after only about a week, we were finally going home after 60 long days. 

Derek’s doctors were blown away by his quick recovery and resilience. Aside from continuing to be on oxygen for a couple more weeks, Derek was back to himself and getting around with a walker. Since Derek was unable to move forward with a second transplant, his doctor recommended oral chemotherapy as maintenance. We were told this is often the route they took in older patients that could not receive transplants and that it worked well. Past that, there was no plan of action. In that moment, we should have questioned more, but we were so deep in and had become engrained with those doctors that we just kept on the path we were being given. Derek continued to recover insanely quickly and was getting around as normal and feeling better with everyday we were home. We truly thought our prayers were answered and somehow life was going to go on as we had hoped time and time again.

It was February when it all happened again. Derek was having weekly or bi weekly lab draws at that point and one day the numbers were no longer normal. Before it was confirmed that the Leukemia was back, I know we both had the same aching feeling inside. I was deeply scared. One of my best friend’s wedding was the weekend before he was going to be having another biopsy. That weekend was filled with negative and intrusive thoughts as all the horrific memories played in mind and I continued to fear the worst. I only wish I would have felt this way sooner, but that’s when I knew I needed to do more. I had already sat and watched Derek suffer and almost die multiple times and I was not going to do that again.

At that point in my life, I had been familiar with integrative and holistic medicine and was self aware of the food we were eating, products we were using, etc. but I was completely blind to how much was out there, especially in the cancer world. I became completely consumed and for days and days as I read and researched and read and researched. During this same time, we found out that Derek’s team wanted to move forward with a trial. The trial was scary and the list of potential side effects was alarming but we felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. We knew the aggressiveness of his cancer and it was putting up just as tough as a fight as Derek. 

After researching enough to have confidence that what I was reading and learning could help Derek, I went up to him and laid it all out. I knew we had to do more and I begged him in that moment to not think I was crazy, and that we just needed to throw all of our cards in and do anything and everything we could. After much consideration, we decided we would do both. We were going to do the trial and once again pray it wouldn’t do more harm than good. And we were also going to change anything we possibly could about our lifestyle and health. We started working with an integrative doctor. Derek was feeling good despite the cancer being back, and once again it felt like maybe we could do this. We were full of an outpouring of hope and faith. 

We had to move again to be close to the hospital for Derek’s appointments even though the trial was outpatient and an oral drug. The three of us and our two dogs packed up our life, moved in with a dear family friend and things honestly went pretty great. At home, Derek was fueling his body with only the most nutritious foods, taking supplements recommended by his doctor, starting some other supportive therapies and all of our free time was spent just enjoying the sunshine, outdoors and family time. 

Derek had appointments 3 — 5 times a week and was requiring blood product transfusions a few times a week as well but his labs continued to trend in the right direction and he was having no side effects. After two months, we were able to return home and Derek returned to farming as he continued his trial. That July, just before Derek and I’s 5th wedding anniversary, we found out he was in remission. We were so happy. Life felt normal briefly and he had gotten through this next chapter without anything too extreme or chaotic. When it came to next steps, there was a lot of “grey area” given Derek’s past and being on a trial. There had been a doctor I had been following along with over the course of those last six-ish months who was located in California, Dr. Leigh Erin Connealy. I desperately wanted Derek to get out there to see her, but before we had time to even make decisions, Derek relapsed. As quickly as the trial drug worked, it stopped working.

A new trial had just opened up that was similar to the one he was on but added another oral chemotherapy drug. Since Derek was feeling well, we decided we would switch to this trial, hopefully get him back into remission quickly and take it from there. He only had to spend one week in the hospital for the start of the trial and then could return home. At that point, all we really wanted was to be home and we were so grateful for that. That October, shortly after switching trials, our family caught a stomach bug. What should have been a 24 — 48 hour illness lasted over 3 weeks for Derek and landed him in the hospital due to his lack of immune system. That’s when Derek’s body became increasingly weak. He wasn’t eating anything and wasn’t getting out of bed. He had lost so much weight and most of his muscle. For weeks, we sat in a dark room as I watched Derek just sleep and feel miserable with no one coming to save us. I tried desperately to get Derek to eat or go on walks to keep his body fueled and moving but he couldn’t. After that, Derek was never himself again. 

When we returned home, Derek continued to spend most of his time just sleeping. He no longer had the energy to do anything including all of the health and lifestyle habits he had built up. We spent the holidays alone, we spent our days alone, we pulled Elsie out of school because there was too much risk with the germs and our life slowly faded. We soon would find out that trial number two was failing. 

That December, doctors recommended a new trial but at a different hospital. I remember being numb at that point. Just going through the motions, doing what the doctors said and just trying to survive another day. We moved again in January and Derek instantly became sick and hospitalized. He was experiencing infection symptoms as well as side effects from the trial. We had an extremely terrible experience at the new hospital and unacceptable things happened over and over. That month was one of the worst. We were trapped in a horrible place we didn’t want to be, Derek was not getting any better and our options were becoming more and more slim. 

I still hadn’t given up on going to California and getting to that doctor. At the end of January, we found out Derek was in remission. His new team wanted to do another transplant and were pushing very hard for us to do it but we all knew his body could not handle it. Everything they were wanting to do had almost killed him before except now he weighed less than me, was barely mobile, had no energy and his body had been through so, so much.

At the end of January, early February, we finally decided we were going to call it quits with the standard of care and be done with the trial. It might work for some people, but it definitely was not working for Derek. We finally made the appointment in California for March. I was in full survival mode just trying to keep us all alive. The countdown to us leaving was right in front of my face but everything continued to crumble around me. 

In those weeks between stopping the trial and waiting to go to California, Derek was in the worst shape he had ever been in at home. He was barely mobile with a walker, was rarely eating or moving, needed assistance with almost everything, was having trouble breathing, was having fluid retention, increased heart rate, his entire body was fragile and in pain, he wouldn’t look at his phone, slept all day, was requiring blood transfusions daily (even sometimes twice a day), was having uncontrollable bleeds at home and even had a fall. I was constantly on edge and terrified of what was coming next because our days became so filled with despair. I couldn’t see it then, but I can see it now. Derek was way too sick. I was blind to the reality of his condition, but wasn’t willing to give up. And as much as Derek didn’t want to give up, his body was no longer giving him that choice. 

The last week of Derek’s life was insane. We made it to California, barely, but we made it. My parents drove Derek, Elsie and I out in their RV so Derek could be comfortable for the ride. Derek’s parents followed behind in their vehicle. Derek made it to one day at the Cancer Center for Healing. It was an amazing place and they were fully ready to help Derek, but Derek’s body was tired at that point. He ended up getting hospitalized in the ICU at two separate hospitals in the one week we were there. Although we were still pushing, Derek was slipping away right before us. My sister, Derek’s brother, one of his sisters and our sister-in-law all flew out to see us once he was admitted to the ICU again. 

I was sitting outside, talking with my sister in law when Derek’s brother and sister came downstairs and outside teary eyed. With Derek’s parents also there, they told us they had a hard conversation with Derek and that he was ready to be home with Jesus. He had put up a hell of a fight and he was tired. It was time to get him home to Colorado. We signed AMA papers, pulled Derek from the ICU and back to Colorado we went. We all piled together in my parents RV and started the drive back. It was filled with many tears, many laughs and a lot of silence.

Derek barely survived the ride home and got progressively worse as the drive continued. The last couple of hours were chaotic and stressful. The elevation passing through the mountains had plummeted Derek’s oxygen tremendously. He was on 10 liters of oxygen via nasal cannula and another 5 liters via face mask. We all were panicking as the oxygen wasn’t enough and running out. After many chaotic calls between several people, one hour out from home, a volunteer fire department met us on the side of the interstate to supply us with more oxygen. My dad was driving as fast as he could just trying to get us to the house. We arrived home at around 4:30pm. We had all said our own goodbyes to Derek before we had arrived home. The moment we were parked, around 10 more people piled on in full tears to see Derek. Around 50 more people lined the front of our house. It took 4 firefighters to safely transport Derek’s weak body from the RV to our house. For the next 2 hours, people came and went to see Derek one last time. A little after 7pm, we could tell it was time. Around 20 of us, including our pastor, gathered around Derek as we waited for the moment. Derek passed away peacefully at 7:30 that evening on March 27th, 2024, exactly five years after his diagnosis.

I had thought about that moment and what my life might look like many times over those five years. It was a constant negative and impulsive thought that would consume me. I don’t have any other explanation other than God giving me the strength and peace I had prayed for all that time but in the weeks following Derek’s passing, I was able to get myself in a really positive headspace and a good place. Moments after we had that hard conversation with Derek in California, I remember just telling myself “I am not going to let this ruin me.” Cancer had already stole so much from me and for those 5 years, I had completely lost myself and life began to feel meaningless. I was numb.

Of course this was not the way I wanted all of this to go, but I have been able to find the silver lining in the way life has played out for me. Now, more than ever, I feel like I know what brings me true joy, purpose and fulfillment in life. As cliche as it is, life truly is too short. Go after the life and the things you want for yourself and do it now. All Derek wanted for Elsie and I was to go live a happy and healthy life. Everyday I remind myself of what he wanted for us. For so long, I didn’t understand why all of this was happening to me, and while it certainly doesn’t make it fair, I now realize there was much bigger purpose in all of this. My perspective on health and wellness has shifted so much over the years. Whether its physical health, mental health, emotional health and so on, there is so much more that we should be doing and we owe it to ourselves and future generations. The average lifestyle that people live today is making us sick and if you don’t have your health, you have nothing. By sharing our story, we hope to encourage others to chase after a life of true health and joy.