Sometimes Life gets in the way of intentions, and priorities must take...priority.
A brief kid's illness, a brief Daddy illness, work demands, volunteer duties, all the other duties of everyday, and my updates have slackened…
Another truth is that once I made my decision, I needed to tell certain people in person. There are times when a phone call is not enough: you know this. Proximity begets truth; poignancy needs closeness. So, this post had to wait.
And another truth is…that this will be a brief post…I’m saving my powder.
Many of you have suggested that I write a book about my experience. At first I approached the idea the same way teenage boys approach their ambition to be a rock star—with wistfulness, arrogance, passion, and abject fear.
It’s no longer an ambition. It’s a need.
On this blog I’ve shared much…far more than you may have expected when you started reading it.
I’ve left out more than I’ve shared.
But that is for another day.
Thank you for reading. More; thank you for caring.
And a very happy Thanksgiving to you and your perfect circles of acquaintances, families, and friends. Drink another; coin a phrase.
Five doctors—three oncologists and two surgeons.
Scores of coffees.
Hundreds of minutes on the phone.
Very few hours of sleep.
I’m not having surgery.
- - -
Every three months I will be scanned and poked and examined. The best doctors with the best equipment will focus their keen attention on me every quarter. I will live within a new lifecycle.
In 2006 I could not do it.
Now I can.
I am choosing quality. Here are my reasons:
- I do not believe that anything can be done to stop my cancer from re-emerging when it “wants to”.
- I do not believe that I am here in 15 years.
- I believe that my children have been through enough. "Cruelty" would be putting them through the agony of another six-month recovery—one with uncertain outcomes.
- I believe that it is time.
- To live life without fear.
- To make my time with the LAs precious and present and pure.
- To be the man I can be—and nothing less.
- To make history—and stop letting it make me.
What? Isn’t it more cruel to risk it coming back? What if they lose their Daddy?
See the first two bullets.
- - -
Since I made my decision, several things have happened.
- I let go.
- I sleep.
I have slept better than at any time that I can remember—since I was a child.
- I see time differently.
It is defined by an apex at the present and rays of infinite possibility flowing into the future. There is little periphery. There is less past.
- I care more—and less.
Important is important. Anything else…not so much.
- I appreciate.
People keep asking me: “how are you doing?”
I respond: “I’m not dead yet.”
Most people can’t handle that response—at first. Then they come around (or they fake it well).
“Live like you’re dying.” It’s a cliché
- - -
What will be will be what will be.
I’ve got this.
Thanks to matt mathai for the wonderful photo, and apologies to his dear lady, who I cropped out of the picture!