Sitting at the kitchen table, I decide to open the pamphlet on the drug Bill will begin in the near future.
Five pages long, it is specifically catered to a similar, yet different cancer, as his type does not have specific trials as of yet.
The similarity is the cancer didn’t respond to traditional treatment, that being chemotherapy, and has spread.
As with anything on the market which is supposed to be of aide, the warning signs nearly cause one to reconsider, as it may require additional medication to counteract the anxiety-induced attack of panic-driven proportions..
We were assured though the chance of anything too serious was around the 1% range per warning. Oh, okay, I feel much better now. Unless, of course, you place a face to the statistic.
Trials are tough, and come with risks.
Life in general is not without a certain amount of risks. Some days they are entirely obvious, but on others, I wonder how oblivious we are to the risks against our wellbeing.
Bill was asked at the onset of his surgeries to donate his unhealthy tissue for clinical trials, because not only is this cancer rare and aggressive, he doesn’t fit the general profile of one who succumbs to this disease.
Actually, we are excited at the thought of possibly helping another individual from walking through this particular valley in the future, by helping researchers find a cure through his donation.
Even if the cure does not have Bill’s face attached to it.
Oh, how we hope and pray it is, but, to know this trial benefits another, comforts us also.
Life’s trials are not always solely our own. And, when we (I) recognize this, difficulties can become opportunities in the midst.
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.