The kids and I went to a water park today.

We’d never been to this particular one and I was guided there by GPS.

I love GPS, even if it’s not always accurate. It also confuses my sense of direction. Which is probably why I didn’t realize exactly where I was until we got lost.

The GPS had us entering on the south side of the park, but a gate barred our way. Fish commented on how we were so close to being on time. We both laughed. Punctuality is a rarity for us, though we’re getting better at it.

I figured there must be an entrance on the east side of the park. That’s when I understood I would be turning on to Flamingo Rd.

I didn’t say anything to the kids, but as I drove passed Memorial West Hospital, I marveled. It had been a year and a half since I had been here last, almost to the day.

It made going to the water park that much more enjoyable. As I went down each slide I felt alive. I was thankful to make it to this moment.

Funny how perspective can do that.

As I drove the kids home, I remembered the exact point on the road I’d called Will long ago. I remembered crying, but not telling him exactly what the doctor had said. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t tell anyone for months.

I was seeing the doctor in preparation for a bone marrow transplant. He told me my scans weren’t good and I was no longer eligible. He said my disease was going to progress rapidly, and I should get my affairs in order. I remember hearing him, but far off, like it wasn’t happening to me. I guess that’s why they say it’s a good idea to have someone with you during these types of appointments. Though I don’t think I could have handled having someone share this with me.

I nodded a lot and then understood he was dismissing me. The finality of the moment caught me by surprise and I burst into tears. Then he told me I should try to get into a clinical trial. Though he didn’t sound certain I would be able to, he said he would make a call for me.

Then he said the thing I always reflect upon. “I guess it depends on whether you’re lucky or not.” At the time, from somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought it was a terrible thing to say.

I visited the church on the way home. Then I called my primary oncologist. He happened to have an appointment the next day. I wanted to discuss clinical trials, but one in particular. The one I had read about on google news.

The kids had park day in the afternoon. We weren’t telling the kids how serious things were, but I couldn’t stop that energy from seeping in. Fish would end up getting into a fight at the park with another kid and it broke me. I wouldn’t be there to help them through.

That’s when Nichole told me she liked my shirt and asked me what it said. It was so far from my mind that I had to look down to read it myself.

“Lucky Brand.”

I felt it like a wave. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe what I thought was a inconsiderate thing to say was actually a sign. Something to help me along.

I’d read about how hard it is to get into clinical trials, but things would flow smoothly for me. Two months later, I would ask a total stranger to take this picture. I posted it on FB with the caption: “I’m in.”

Will and I called that doctor Dr. Doom and Gloom for the longest time. Will still does, but we both agree he lit a fire under me. When my oncologist agreed a clinical trial was a good idea, he made a point of saying we shouldn’t delay. I called Memorial Sloan Kettering that same day. I was lucky, not everyone has the option of a second chance. Or in my case, a third or a fourth chance.

I’m not cancer free yet, but I am blessed to have made it this far. I give thanks for all the people along the way, including that doctor. And the GPS.

Thank you for reminding me of all I have to be thankful for. Thank you for being a part of my journey.