These five words are imprinted on a wristband that I’ve worn for almost two years as a former high school classmate and fellow brother-in-arms fought against the ravages of brain cancer. Colonel Emil “Mickey” Meis lost that fight July 8, 2019.
I have no words to adequately express my feelings at this moment. My heartfelt condolences go out to his family and they are certainly in my prayers. I also find myself reflecting on my own situation and the loss of other friends and family to cancer.
Everyone at some point in their life either as a patient, friend, relative, or caregiver has been affected by this devastating disease. I was diagnosed with Stage IV throat cancer in 2014. Five years later (after chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery) my cancer remains in remission, while so many others passed away – Don Kirkland, Rick Wilson, Alex Calderon, Al Billington, George Cichy, and now Mickey Meis. Their deaths will stay with me forever, and anyone reading this post can substitute or add names that reflect their own personal experiences. The pain and suffering are universal.
Everyone who died deserved better. They deserved to live out their lives cancer free experiencing all the joys and sorrow that life has to offer. Instead, in spite of courageous efforts to beat the odds, the disease took them away.
As a survivor, I’m left wondering… why them? My faith sustained me as did the well wishes and prayers of countless individuals in my corner, and I had excellent doctors and nurses at the Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio. Yet the same can be said for the victims listed above. They had comparable professional care and they were devout in their religious beliefs. So, how is it that I’m here pondering their loss?
I’m left with a lot of questions that I cannot answer. Faith is a mystery and medical research has yet to fully comprehend the disease or come up with a cure. This year alone, just in the United States, The American Cancer Society estimates that there will be 1,762,450 new cancer cases and 606,880 deaths.
I intend to continue wearing my wristband in memory of Mickey and all those who have died, in support of everyone currently undergoing treatment, and as an advocate for everyone just learning of their diagnosis. The words Strength, Hope, Courage, Faith and Love lift me up. Let them also be the bywords that sustain you and yours in this ongoing struggle.