Today, I realized that it was important to let the parents in my daughter’s class know that I am about to start chemotherapy. Some of them already know about my cancer, but most do not. So I sat down this morning and wrote the following message (with some minor redaction). Tomorrow, my daughter’s teacher (who sent out her own thoughtful letter to the parent community) is going to engage in a brief talk with the class to address any concerns.

Dear fellow parents,

I am writing to update you all on an important issue that will be affecting my family, and which may end up coming home to some of you as a topic of discussion at some point.

Shortly before the Thanksgiving, I was officially diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer; it was something I was not entirely unprepared for, however, as it came toward the end of three months of scans and tests and ultimately a bone biopsy. However, my wife and I wanted to be sensitive not only to our own daughter, but also to her friends. I have kept largely quiet about this because, until we had determined a course of treatment, we didn’t have the proper information to share, even with our own child.

A little over a week ago, I had a lymph node biopsy that allowed us to finally determine the best course of action after consulting with several specialists and doing a heavy amount of research. Working with one of the top lung cancer specialists from USC, I am going to begin a regimen of chemotherapy on Wednesday of this week. Unfortunately, due to the relatively advanced stage of the cancer, I do not have the option of a more holistic approach. On the other hand, I have the extreme good fortune of being young (well, young enough) and in overall relatively exceptional health. I also have the good fortune of access to some of the best and most advanced care for my particular condition practically in my own backyard.

With the advances that have occurred over the past five to ten years, lung cancer has become a much more manageable condition than it once was and by all accounts I should be able to get it under control within the next three months or so, after which my focus will simply be on maintenance rather than attack. Additionally, there are new drugs becoming available that are very promising in their ability to push the cancer into complete remission.

With all of that as background, we chose this weekend to discuss my condition with our daughter in an honest and matter-of-fact manner, with an emphasis on my overall health being fine. For the most part, the only outward sign of my cancer has been a small but persistent cough, especially when I laugh. During the course of my treatment, it is likely that I may have a few days right after when I am tired or possibly nauseous, but in general I do not expect anything outwardly dramatic to be apparent, and going into this I see no reason to cause my child or any of her peers additional stress or worry.

One thing that has been of concern to me is that many kids have their own experience of what cancer is or means, and with well over a hundred variations on that theme it is wide open territory in which young minds could easily get caught up and confused. But we understand that once the topic has been broached, it is likely to come out in conversations on the playground. Once that happens, the conversation can then come home in a variety of ways and different kids will interpret the information in different ways. To most of the kids, I imagine that it won’t have any particular meaning unless they have had a relative who has gone through treatment, in which case the child may well project that experience onto ours.

What I hope to accomplish here is a broad understanding that I am feeling healthy and that there is every reason to assume the treatments will go well and be effective. If a child expresses concern about my well being, they can be assured that I am all right. And while I will be going in for treatment every three weeks, throwing a bit of a wrench in my personal schedule, I am approaching this period as a necessary process to achieve a positive outcome.

Although some days may be difficult, I am actually looking forward to moving through this. Certainly there will be a few times when we may reach out for an extra play date or a volunteer at the coffee cart, but otherwise our family intends to continue living our normal life. I am totally comfortable talking about this and if anyone has questions about my cancer or the treatment, I am happy to talk about it. I have already looked at pretty much any available treatment option, ranging from carrot juice to meditation to surgery to radiation, and I am very confident in the course of action I have chosen for the short term. My prognosis is excellent and although it would have been nice to have an easier solution, we are going to attend to this in a positive and proactive manner.

Thank you in advance for the kind wishes you are now obligated to offer… Our family appreciates the kindness and warmth of our classroom community, and the support we have received from our teacher and the few parents who had the dubious honor of helping us out on a couple of occasions (as well as respecting our wish not to go public prematurely). And thank you, on a personal level, for remembering that I am healthy in spite of dealing with what amounts to an unwelcome house guest about to be served with an eviction notice.

All the best,
Jeff