These days, Marc is waxing philosophical. Having had the opportunity to see him recently, his musings and thoughts are fresh. The year, not what was planned or expected, has been about fighting and resting--attacking the invader inside his body and then letting the body recover for the next battle.
There have been soldiers on the field with him, his pals on the 11th floor at UCSF and they didn't all make it. A lovely older Indian woman whom many of us met and shared the solarium with she and her family, first lost her feet, then her life. Marc's friend steve, whose son works for Adidas and has been talking with Marc about the possibility of working with him, didn't make it either. Another friend, a woman named bob, decided after so much fighting that she wasn't going to win the battle, so she put up her white flag and asked to live her last few days in peace, without chemicals pumping through her veins, nurses taking blood work, without trying so hard to live.
Marc honored the strength it took to stop fighting when the outcome was clear. To admit defeat and gracefully accept the days that remain is a kind of strength Marc hadn't quite seen before. Speaking purely in terms of cold statistics, some make it and some don't. And so statistically speaking, even while the loss was fresh and potently painful for bob's family and for Marc and his family, bob's daughter posed that "perhaps bob didn't make it so that Marc could." ...perhaps. For Marc, there is a mixture of grieving, honoring, celebrating these friends, these companions on the field.
It might shock you to hear that looking back, Marc does not wish "it" never happened. He does not wish this cancer never challenged him. Because in the battle, in the fight, he gained an internal fortitude, a strength, an absolute clarity about his priorities. If he wished the cancer away or the memory of the experience, he would lose what he has gained. And that is not acceptable, to put it as plainly as Marc might. He is more aware than ever of the goodness of life and of what is truly important. [Not. to be clear. that-he-has-any-desire-or-intention-of-going-through-it-again.] Though this poetry of thought was heard in person, through email exchanges Marc further explained why he feels this way and it's so poignant you have to hear it from the source:
"Part of my reasoning for thinking this way lies in my belief that everything happens for a reason and although I am [un]sure of the exact reasoning for it yet, I know that someday I will. It is one of the key reasons for my positive attitude throughout this fight. I am better off for what I experienced and I am looking forward to using this once I begin life again. I have been [given] a second chance and I plan on making the most of it.
It is a funny thing, after the diagnosis was told to me, the main focus was on recovery and survival. The idea of dreaming about the future was gone, being the obvious dreamer that I am, everything became a day to day fight. Now that the hope of remission is on the horizon, I still utilize the thoughts of staying in the present and looking to whats next. But, I have started to dream about what I may be able to do from this point and I am excited about the possibilities."The philiosphers' stone was the sought after and never found alchemical treasure that would purify lead and turn it into gold. Allegorically, Marc seems to have found that catalytic stone. It is the paradigm with which he faced this trial. It transmutated the cancer into a valuable experience. Life is full of joy and opportunity and yet it is also so full of inevitable challenges, tragedies, and heartaches. We seek after circumstances and opportunities that position us towards happiness and yet is it what we do with them that is possibly more critical? Could it be that our outlook and not our circumstance is the key to transforming our lives from lead to gold? Could it be?
The memorial day weekend was spent with family watching basketball, enjoying a drink or two, good food, golf, and enjoying his nephew, his immediate family and extended family, and sharing his trademarked dry wit. His vital counts and blood sugar were on the edge but he managed to ride their waves just fine.
So, what are we waiting for? Final P.E.T. scan will be on June 19, bone marrow biopsy on June 22. Test results will take a few days to weeks to be processed. But, not so secretly, I hope for the final confirmation of remission by July 4th, which will be a most important birthday of one Marc Giannetto.
But in the meantime, today brought good news! Marc went in to have his vital counts checked and they were in fact, so good, that the doctor doesn't need him to come back in for blood work for a while... "enjoy and I'll see you at the end of the month" said the doctor.
Indeed.
Posted by amber with Marc's consent
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