I was born on the Fourth of July. Technically, this makes me a cancer. How ironic is that.
For those of you who may not have already heard, I have been diagnosed with colon cancer. Not content to remain in one place, the cancer has sent out a scouting party to my liver.
I have only recently become aware of this rebellion, and have not entirely decided how I feel about this. I have decided that it "sucks" and "sucks hard" at the very least. Chemotherapy starts this next week and I have that to look forward to. I am trying to remain positive, but truely, this sucks. I might have thought that having heart disease was enough for one person, but now fate has dealt me this challenge to deal with as well. Not fair. I quit smoking in 1982. I stopped eating meat in 2005. I have not been especially good about exercising and staying fit (bad me). So I am a little angry right now.
My friends are stellar. Everyone has been immensely supportive. Already the food has begun arriving. Nothing says "I love you and care about you" like food, except maybe saying "I love you and care about you" which they have done as well.
I am sure I will have more to say as I come to grips with this. Right now, it sucks. I can't stress that enough. I am not happy about this. I hope to be a little more eloquent in the coming days.
Thanks everyone for their good thoughts.
-Richard
3 comments:
It sucks.
It fucking sucks, absolutely and completely.
I believe anger and rage can be cleansing if you send it on out of you, so vent away.
I believe love is healing, and I love you and care about you and am sending you love constantly.
You and all your family are in my prayers and in my heart.
I believe the words we're all looking for are:
fuckety, fuck, fuck, fuck.
And no, I don't think I've said them enough yet.
When I'm in town, there will be food.
When I'm not in town, there's still love.
And I don't think there's anything more eloquent to say than sucks, sucks, sucks, coupled with your articulate daughter's fuckety, fuck fuck, fuck.
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