Man, this makes me sad. In that, I actually welled up upon hearing of the passing of a person I didn't know---and that's rare.
Mr. Snow was a classy, well-spoken man. I was not the biggest viewer of his, while he was hosting Fox News Sunday and as I never listen to Limbaugh, I hadn't ever heard him sub for the fat man. But I knew who he was and was very happy he had decided to use his communications skills to help out an administration I believed was doing right, but needed his services immensely to get their message across.
On a more personal note, even though he had no idea about it, he actually helped me be a better, less whiny, cancer patient. His cancer had recurred around the time I was originally diagnosed and he returned to work at the White House after I started treatment. I kept my eye on him, and his progress, as much as I could while I was on my own roller coaster ride, and I sincerely hoped for the best for him. As he was generous enough to talk about his situation in front of rolling cameras, I was grateful enough to have been given a clue as to how to deal with all of this from someone who, sadly, was more experienced in all of this.
From the White House Briefing on April 30, 2007:
{...}Let me also just -- some personal comments -- and I'll try not to get choked up, so I'll go slow. You never anticipate this stuff, it just happens. I want to thank everybody in this room. You guys -- (thumbs up.) (Applause.) I'm getting there.Q We're glad you're here.
MR. SNOW: Thanks. And thanks for the basket. (Laughter.) I want to thank you all. It really meant the world to me. Anybody who does not believe that thoughts and prayers make a difference, they're just wrong.
Q Take your time.
MR. SNOW: I will, thanks -- especially you. Just a couple things about my situation. I'm not trying to feel sorry for myself, I'm just going to stop being choked up, because you guys have been so wonderful.
I'm a very lucky guy. As I told you before, we were, out of an aggressive sense of caution, going to do an exploratory surgery that did indicate that I still have cancer. Now, I know the first reaction of people when they hear the word "cancer" is uh-oh. But we live in kind of a different medical situation than we used to. And I have been blessed to be treated by, supported by some of the finest doctors in the world. What we are going to do -- we had surgery, where we did disclose -- and there are some cancers in the peritoneum and we are going to attack them using chemotherapy -- I'll start chemotherapy this Friday.
The design is to throw it into remission and transform it into a chronic disease. If cancer is merely a nuisance for a long period of time, that's fine with me. There are many people running around -- and I must tell you, I have received a lot of notes from folks who have had far worse cases than I have, who have survived many years with the kind of regimen that we're talking about, which is chemo up front, and then maintenance chemo to continue combating cancer tells.
I won't tell you how it's going to work out, because I don't know. But we obviously feel optimistic, and faith, hope and love are a big part of all of it.
The other thing is that I hope folks out there who may either have cancer or have loved ones with cancer need to know a couple of things. First, don't go it alone. The support I've received from you and from my colleagues at the White House and people around the country has been an enormous source of strength. You can't -- there's no way to quantify it, but you feel it. You feel it in your heart. And in many ways, that may be the most important organ for recovery, to have the kind of spirit and to realize that, in my case, I'm unbelievably lucky and unbelievably blessed -- and really happy to be back.
The other thing is -- so don't go it alone, and the other thing is be of courage. Realize that in an age like ours, things are happening very rapidly in the medical realm. I'm taking a cancer cocktail this time around, a chemo cocktail that's going to contain two agents that were not in broad use two years ago. Things are moving very rapidly, and there's always hope.
Not everybody will survive cancer, but on the other hand, you've got to realize you've got the gift of life, so make the most of it. And that is my view, and I'm going to make the most of my time with you. I'll take questions. {...}
Note the lessons here: be grateful for what you've got, because every day is a blessing; accept help from people who want to help; choose to be optimistic about the future, because you don't what it holds, and it could hold just as much good as bad; and the lesson that was unsaid, but came through clearly enough: even though you're going through pain and suffering---and I'm fairly certain the poor man was suffering at that point---you shouldn't feel the need to deny it, because that wouldn't be honest, but instead be brave, assume that, yes, there will be more of it along the way, work through it, realize it's part of the process of living for you, and hope for the best.
Tony Snow was an incredibly classy man, and our lives are lesser for his passing. Rest in Peace, dear man, and thank you for your wise words.
My sincerest, most heartfelt condolences to his wife and family.
Posted by Kathy at July 12, 2008 01:19 PM | TrackBack