Happy New Year and welcome to the "By Endurance We Conquer" blog! I'll start with a quick introduction to both myself and the idea of B.E.W.C. (it's only an idea, so I really don't know what this will become). This blog is something I've been thinking about and planning for at least two or three years, and New Year's seems like the perfect time to finally get started and make it happen. So, let's go!
I'm Ryan. I like to do stuff. Often, things that other grown-ups find a bit irresponsible: Skiing like I'm still 15 in the terrain park, sailing boats on journeys across Lake Erie, fishing in freezing rivers, hurtling through the woods at inappropriate speeds on bicycles...you get the idea. In 2018, the universe threw a wrench in the proverbial spokes of my pursuit of adventure. I got sick, had a colectomy, was diagnosed with nasty cancer, and embarked on a journey I never imagined having to undertake. TLDR: it sucked.
It's almost eight years later as I sit writing these words. It's been an absolutely bananas trip, with high peaks, deep valleys, and a lot of long nights. However battered and bruised I may be, I'm still here hurtling through space on this rock with all of you!
What is a person to do when they survive the unsurvivable? Good question. One I've been trying to answer for the better part of the last two years. When you get a diagnosis like stage four cancer, the only focus is on treatment and survival. It took most of my energy to get through chemo every other Monday, being a dad, and trying to work enough to keep the bills paid. Then, at least in my case, it was suddenly all over. I will get into all of this in more detail eventually, but long story short, I showed up for treatment with Keytruda (an immunotherapy drug that is a magical potion), had elevated liver enzymes (typical side effect), and a few weeks later, I was done. No more drugs, no more monthly visits to the oncologist, no more blood work every few weeks... It was surprising, I didn't feel the elation I had imagined feeling as I dreamt of the day the doctors spoke the words to which I was listening. It was an overwhelming flood of emotion, almost too intense to process. When I started, they told me I would never achieve remission, that I would require treatment for the rest of my life. Now here I was, done! What an absolute miracle. Doctors look at my charts and wonder aloud how I am still vertical. My case went all the way to the director of oncology at the Cleveland Clinic for review. Like I said, bananas.
Now what? That's a good question. What does a person do when the singular focus of their existence ends in the space of a 15-minute doctor visit? That's where all of you guys enter the story. I've spent a lot of late nights alone, wondering "why me" or "what's the point"? I don't know the answer to those questions, but I know I have an intense desire to share this story in the hope that it might offer some comfort to a person deep in one of those valleys.
I truly believe that my life experiences, climbing, skiing, biking, sailing, and others, left me uniquely prepared to undertake the experience of battling cancer. Staring death in the face isn't a normal thing in most of our daily lives. In fact, most of us go to great lengths to avoid having to look into that abyss. Some of us, however, seek out that edge in the pursuit of...I'm honestly not sure how to describe it, but it's an experience that is so intense and fulfilling that people spend outrageous amounts of money and energy on the chase. Strangely, showing up for the first day of chemotherapy was a similar vibe to preparing for a difficult climb, standing on top of a mountain about to drop a gnarly chute, or hoisting the sails in the pre-dawn light of a long journey.
I've always loved the story of Ernest Shackleton, his ship Endurance, and his crew surviving being marooned in Antarctica. It was 1917, and the crew had sailed South in hopes of being the first to traverse the whole continent of Antarctica. The ship became trapped in the ice, eventually sinking, and the men were stranded in one of the most inhospitable places on earth. After a year without sight of another ship, Shackleton decided on action. They transformed their lifeboat, the James Caird, into a sailing vessel and set of in search of help. The small crew sailed across 700 miles of the roughest ocean in the world, in a 24-foot boat, with nothing but a compass and a sextant to guide them to their destination. It's unquestionably one of the greatest feats of seamanship in human history. Shackleton returned to rescue the rest of the crew. Not a single man was lost. Ernest Shackleton's family motto was "Fortitudine Vincimus" or "By Endurance We Conquer". It became my motto as well, and I hope it can come to mean something to you as you read my words.
-Ryan
PS. I added a few logo ideas I've been kicking around. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!
No comments:
Post a Comment