A post in which it's been a while - sorry 'bout that

The truth is, there's been a lot going on.

I lost my voice in May. We didn't really know why. The doctor didn't either. After a very frustrating diagnostic square-dance that went on for three months, they told me I had Mixed-Cellularity subtype Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Cancer.

I've been through five months of ABVD chemotherapy now. It is by far the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Treatment makes me nauseated and dizzy, among other things. I've lost almost all my hair (everywhere) and about 10 pounds (which I could well afford to lose). I have a port in my chest. The drug regimen has done irreparable damage to my lungs, and I'll never be able to have (pure, medical-grade) oxygen as a treatment again.

But the last PET scan they did was clear, and after going in with 50/50 odds of survival (which really makes you stop and think, trust me), they think I'm going to live.

It' been quite an experience. I have two treatments left. I go in on the 12th for treatment #11, and then my last chemo is scheduled for the 26th.

My dad has really stepped up to the plate and been wonderful. We had a talk a couple of weeks ago that I wish we'd had 20 years ago. I feel closer to him than I have in my life. My mother, after initially freaking out a bit (understandably) has stepped up as well, and she'll be here to go to treatment with me this week.

The Kindred have all be fantastic. Rhonda in particular has been a rock, and helped me so much I don't think I could have done this without her.

One of my big fears has always been that I would have something badly wrong with me, and that I wouldn't have anyone to look after me. I've been very surprised at how my friends and family have rallied round and really been there for me.

My perspectives have changed, understandably. I've been really surprised at how people I thought I didn't know that well have gone out of their way to do something special or extend a kindness. It's really restored my faith in people in a way.

I don't hold life casually any longer. There was a time, after Michael left, when I wondered why I was still here, why I was hanging around - what was the point? When I got my diagnosis, I was ready to go home to God if it was time for that, but I'm glad it isn't time yet. I want to see what kind of man my nephew Cole makes - he's a phenomenal guy. I want to see my little niece Ava grow up, and go to her wedding. I want to be here to take care of my mother when she needs me. I want to have time to get to know my sister as a person, and enjoy her. I want time to spend with my friends, to travel, or visit, or just enjoy their company. So sticking around doesn't seem quite so pointless any longer.

My sister Cindy hasn't been in touch. Not even a card. I'm still conflicted about that. I try not to live my life in reproach, but I'm going to have a hard time moving past that.

So I've learned about people, and about myself. I've been forced into a position that I had to take from and rely on others - never something I was good at. Rhonda says that's part of the lessons I was supposed to learn from this. I've been forced into a place that I HAD to take things one day at a time, after a lifetime of worrying about tomorrow and planning. When there is no other choice, sometimes you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And sometimes that's enough.

Would I have gone through this to learn the lessons I have? I don't know, honestly. But I'm going to take what good from it I can, and leave the bad behind. And that's the most important lesson. Trouble will find it's way if it's coming - don't borrow it or go looking for it. If things are good, be happy and enjoy them - wring every bit of joy out of them that you can. Because that's what it's about. Finding and enjoying the happy.