The Quick Version:
Just your average young couple living life and being married and having cancer. We're usually good at all three, but sometimes we're not.We also have a toddler for comic relief. She's usually good at that, but sometimes she's not.
Probably he just liked my smile.
Anyway, so began our epic (very normal/boring/routine) love story.
After college, Paul moved from his hometown of Oshkosh, Wisconsin to the best city on the planet: Buffalo, NY. (still a source of debate in our household, unbelievably so)
We got engaged in 2011. Things were lovely.
Then cancer happened and things were less lovely. (You can read more about Paul's diagnosis and early treatments here)
After two butt-kicking surgeries in February and March of 2012, Paul was considered NED. (No Evidence of Disease—woot!!!)
June 2012: 3 months post-diagnosis, 8 weeks post-HIPEC surgery, Paul and Liz get married.
We pack the next two years so full of good times and free concerts at Canalside that we almost blot out the cancer bummer from our past.
In 2014, our daughter is born.
4 weeks later, Paul receives devastating news: his stupid cancer is back.
So for the past 3 years, it's been all sorts of chemotherapies, surgery, traveling to meet with specialists, clinical trials, immunotherapy, and trying to learn how to breastfeed in the quieter corners of Roswell Park Cancer Institute.
February 2017: Liz is diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer.
A Longer Version:
Our story is one that mimes the dramatic arc of many college romances: we met at a beer-fueled concert, the fiddles did their magic, and I was done for.
I'm hopelessly Anne Shirley-ish when it comes to...anything. Romantic to a fault and bursting with sentimentality. So you can take it or leave it—but when I met Paul at the impressionable age of 20, it took me all of seven hours to know HE WAS IT. My adorable tie-dye-clad curly-haired grizzly bear who I would follow to the ends of the Earth.
I'm hopelessly Anne Shirley-ish when it comes to...anything. Romantic to a fault and bursting with sentimentality. So you can take it or leave it—but when I met Paul at the impressionable age of 20, it took me all of seven hours to know HE WAS IT. My adorable tie-dye-clad curly-haired grizzly bear who I would follow to the ends of the Earth.
Probably he just liked my smile.
Anyway, so began our epic (very normal/boring/routine) love story.
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| Liz and Paul: The Wonder Years, Circa 2007 |
We got engaged in 2011. Things were lovely.
Then cancer happened and things were less lovely. (You can read more about Paul's diagnosis and early treatments here)
After two butt-kicking surgeries in February and March of 2012, Paul was considered NED. (No Evidence of Disease—woot!!!)
June 2012: 3 months post-diagnosis, 8 weeks post-HIPEC surgery, Paul and Liz get married.
We pack the next two years so full of good times and free concerts at Canalside that we almost blot out the cancer bummer from our past.
In 2014, our daughter is born.
4 weeks later, Paul receives devastating news: his stupid cancer is back.
So for the past 3 years, it's been all sorts of chemotherapies, surgery, traveling to meet with specialists, clinical trials, immunotherapy, and trying to learn how to breastfeed in the quieter corners of Roswell Park Cancer Institute.
February 2017: Liz is diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer.
So here we are—two cancer patients diagnosed by 30. Not a feat we were itching to add to our resumes, but so it goes. My hope is that by sharing our story you'll see that our story isn't just about cancer. We're not players in some Shakespearean tragedy where everyone is spewing dour soliloquies and dying violent deaths. We're really quite happy. And not in a Pollyanna way. Just in a regular, young family kind of way.Thanks for reading, and remember: be excellent to each other and party on dudes!
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