Thursday, April 5, 2012

Reflection

No work tomorrow, and no school for the kids. It's a state holiday, officially a "Day of Reflection."

I'll do more reflecting tomorrow, but I'll start today.

I saw a colleague yesterday at work, someone I haven't really had much chance to talk to lately. He mad some smart-ass comment to me, as he usually does, as I was unlocking my office door. I don't remember what it was. I responded in kind. He made some other comment -- a reference to my health. I laughed, because it was funny, and went into my office.

A minute later, he came in. More serious this time.

"How is your health?" he asked.

As I said, I hadn't had much chance to talk to him in a while.

So I gave him an update. My health, overall, is pretty good. No treatment for well over two years, while the median for Rituxan is 12 to 18 months. My physical went well. Bloodwork looked good. EKG, PSA, HDL -- all fine. Asthma is under control. Ran 5 miles on Saturday.

He was glad to hear all of this.

Later in the day, I chatted with another colleague -- this one a cancer survivor. He has a scan coming up on Tuesday. He's starting to get that nervous, pre-scan feeling. He feels great, and knows in his bones (and relevant internal organs) that he's OK. But he can't shake that feeling. I told him we call it "scanxiety" in my support group. He liked that.

So that's what I've been reflecting on: things are good now. My wife and I are too busy to say more than hello to each other, but it's "good busy," and the kids are happy and healthy and doing well. Can't complain.

Friend #2 knows the scan will be fine, but he doesn't want to jinx it by talking about it. I understand that, but I'm willing to take the risk.

Friend #1 knows that what I have is slow-growing but incurable, and knows that I deal with that, emotionally, every day. He's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to handle it if it was him.

Ah, but he would. Because, really, what other choice would he have?

I've never been a "carpe-diem, sieze-the-day, go-sky-diving-because-you-just-never-know" kind of cancer patient, and I doubt I ever will be. But it's nice to stop and reflect every once in a while, and realize that, despite being dealt what some people would call an unlucky hand,I'm a lucky guy, and today is a pretty good day.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Right on. Thank you!
-P