A Basket Full of Broken Eggs

Ever since I was diagnosed, I have been intrigued by clinical trials. Even early on in my treatment, I continuously asked my doctor to keep her feelers out for different studies that might pertain to me and my situation. I was confident in the traditional care that I was receiving but I wanted more. I have always been prepared and willing to think outside the box. I want the latest and greatest and I'm not afraid to take a risk if there is a chance that it is something that could benefit me.

Unfortunately, my attempts at being accepted into trials have not been successful. For various reasons, I have actually been denied eligibility into about five different ones. The details are different each time but they all come down to one thing... I'm not sick enough. I have Stage IV Breast Cancer, STAGE IV, and I'm not considered sick enough. It doesn't make any sense to me and it can be frustrating.

However, I recently got another chance at a new trial. In fact, I'm actually sitting on an airplane right now headed back to Chicago from MD Anderson in Houston, TX. MD Anderson is one of the most revered cancer institutes in the country. They conduct hundreds of trials and are always ahead on what's new in the cancer world. They are exactly what I have been hoping for so when the last minute opportunity for a trial arose, my mom and I were on the first flight we could grab.

I arrived at MDA and spent a several hours getting a 'tour,' of the facility, from port draws, to meetings, MRIs, and everything in between. I was there for an initial screening to determine my eligibility for the trial and based on the conversations relayed to me between one of my oncologists and the doctor in charge of the trial, I was convinced I was a sure thing and this would not be disappointment number six. In fact, they already had my follow up appointment scheduled for the next week. 

Unfortunately, that's not how it ended up working out. I had placed all my eggs in my proverbial MDA basket, counted them before they hatched and then watched them drip a bitter yolky disappointment when my expectations were broken. 

Once again, a trial that was not meant for me. I have a strong faith in God and I sincerely believe that what is meant to be, will be; but, that only softens the blow of bad news, it does not erase it. So, needless to say I was bummed.

And, then? Something incredible happened. I climbed aboard a shuttle bus and I happened to sit behind a family. It was a little boy, his grandpa and his mom. This little boy couldn't have been much more than 2, he was a tiny little peanut. His little brown head was as bald as could be and as he clutched his grandpa's neck, I saw his hospital bracelet. This sweet, tiny human is suffering from a terrible illness, and talk about a humbling smack in the face. I've seen tv commercials for St. Jude's and watched through social media as a very brave friend from high school lost her own son;  but this was the first sick child I had ever made actual eye contact with. I listened to him ask his grandpa various questions and then watched his mom say 'see you tomorrow,' to Darnell, the bus driver, as if they were old friends, and I watched the little boy and his Ninja Turtle backpack disappear. It was then that I realized how truly unfair life can be. That little boy is a hero, no child should be fighting this battle. I will pray for his cute face that I cannot get out of my mind. But I will also go home to my other treatment options and remember that even when I think that I'm suffering... I'm not. 

I'm blessed. Trial or no trial.