Dear Anonymous in England
Your comment came at a time when I needed it most. So, thank you. Yes, this blog is very different than my previous one. The first one was a lot more joyful, frivolous, and served a very different purpose. This one is more serious, sober, and honest. It is written for a specific audience: cancer fighters and those who love them. I am not adverse if others read it, but it is definitely not a pithy series of vignettes.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for not asking me why I haven't mentioned so and so or telling me that you wish I would lighten up and be more like the witty, sarcastic person whom I was in my first blog. Sorry. She is long gone. Well, that isn't true. She is still in there, but not nearly as cocky as she used to be. Life has brought her to her knees more than once and you can see it. It's written all over the lines in her face and her balding head.
I can't tell you how happy I am that you are now in a happier, better place! And if my old blog helped you get there, I am beyond humbled and flattered. Yes. Coming out is a fucking major big deal and that sucks. Because people are people and we should all be accepted and loved as long as we aren't deliberately hurting others.
I get a LOT of comments on this blog but I rarely print them out. Mostly because I want to protect the privacy of those writing them, but also because I want to keep this blog specific. As you have noticed, this blog is mainly about living with cancer. It is my hope that sometime, some way...a person with cancer, or someone who loves someone with cancer, will stumble on this and think, "Yes! That is exactly what this feels like!" Or, if they are going in for a biopsy or a bone marrow test, they will be able to read how it went for me, what to maybe expect. Anonymous? I sincerely hope that you NEVER need to read this blog, but if you want to come along for the ride, please do. Your comment told me a lot about your core and I like it very much.
It does please me so much to know that my old blog helped you come out, helped you accept yourself for the beautiful person that you are. As you know, my coming out story was a bitch. I lost my entire family for over a decade, with the exception of one sister who refused to let me go. But, I was so lucky. I had a partner/friend who helped me realize that the problem was not with me, but with them. And loving her has proven to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Life has a funny way of evolving into exactly how it is supposed to be.
My life is very different from the one I lived in my other blog. I no longer get up and go to work every day. I no longer raise a child. My life now is handed out it in teacup moments. I spend an incredible amount of time in doctor's offices, getting labs or medical tests done, or just sleeping.
I am dying. My wife would tell you that we are all dying and not to be so dramatic. But, there is a difference. I live with my killer inside of me and I know exactly where it is. I fight it with weapons that also hurt my body. Not too many of us know what our life expectancy is. Mine was 26 months at my diagnosis nearly 4 months ago. But, there are exceptions to every rule. People with my cancer have lived for nearly ten years. Not many. But, a few. Others have died in 3 weeks. It is a crap shoot, a casino guess. And I have never been all that lucky in games of chance. I often feel as if a sword of damocles is dangling over my head. I have surprised myself at how good I am at gallow's humor. I have also surprised myself at how brave I am and how strong. I suspect that most of us are, though, when the situation forces it.
I am also infused with love for those who have chosen to sit close to me. And with nature. I have always had love of nature, but now I feel almost sacred about sunsets and sunrises and the way the light catches different areas in my home. I am a tree hugger and a flower sniffer extraordinaire.
When you know that your time is limited, you become ridiculously attached to life.
If you stay with this blog....welcome. If you check in now and then, again....welcome. I am glad to know that you are in the world and living your true life.
Please don't forget me because I will never forget you and your kind comment.
Peace out, dude.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for not asking me why I haven't mentioned so and so or telling me that you wish I would lighten up and be more like the witty, sarcastic person whom I was in my first blog. Sorry. She is long gone. Well, that isn't true. She is still in there, but not nearly as cocky as she used to be. Life has brought her to her knees more than once and you can see it. It's written all over the lines in her face and her balding head.
I can't tell you how happy I am that you are now in a happier, better place! And if my old blog helped you get there, I am beyond humbled and flattered. Yes. Coming out is a fucking major big deal and that sucks. Because people are people and we should all be accepted and loved as long as we aren't deliberately hurting others.
I get a LOT of comments on this blog but I rarely print them out. Mostly because I want to protect the privacy of those writing them, but also because I want to keep this blog specific. As you have noticed, this blog is mainly about living with cancer. It is my hope that sometime, some way...a person with cancer, or someone who loves someone with cancer, will stumble on this and think, "Yes! That is exactly what this feels like!" Or, if they are going in for a biopsy or a bone marrow test, they will be able to read how it went for me, what to maybe expect. Anonymous? I sincerely hope that you NEVER need to read this blog, but if you want to come along for the ride, please do. Your comment told me a lot about your core and I like it very much.
It does please me so much to know that my old blog helped you come out, helped you accept yourself for the beautiful person that you are. As you know, my coming out story was a bitch. I lost my entire family for over a decade, with the exception of one sister who refused to let me go. But, I was so lucky. I had a partner/friend who helped me realize that the problem was not with me, but with them. And loving her has proven to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Life has a funny way of evolving into exactly how it is supposed to be.
My life is very different from the one I lived in my other blog. I no longer get up and go to work every day. I no longer raise a child. My life now is handed out it in teacup moments. I spend an incredible amount of time in doctor's offices, getting labs or medical tests done, or just sleeping.
I am dying. My wife would tell you that we are all dying and not to be so dramatic. But, there is a difference. I live with my killer inside of me and I know exactly where it is. I fight it with weapons that also hurt my body. Not too many of us know what our life expectancy is. Mine was 26 months at my diagnosis nearly 4 months ago. But, there are exceptions to every rule. People with my cancer have lived for nearly ten years. Not many. But, a few. Others have died in 3 weeks. It is a crap shoot, a casino guess. And I have never been all that lucky in games of chance. I often feel as if a sword of damocles is dangling over my head. I have surprised myself at how good I am at gallow's humor. I have also surprised myself at how brave I am and how strong. I suspect that most of us are, though, when the situation forces it.
I am also infused with love for those who have chosen to sit close to me. And with nature. I have always had love of nature, but now I feel almost sacred about sunsets and sunrises and the way the light catches different areas in my home. I am a tree hugger and a flower sniffer extraordinaire.
When you know that your time is limited, you become ridiculously attached to life.
If you stay with this blog....welcome. If you check in now and then, again....welcome. I am glad to know that you are in the world and living your true life.
Please don't forget me because I will never forget you and your kind comment.
Peace out, dude.
Comments
Post a Comment