A long-time reader added a comment on my post about visiting the Grand Canyon last month. I always like to hear from people who have been reading for a while.
This reader also pointed out that lately she has been stepping back from reading about Follicular Lymphoma. And that's good news, too.
It made me think about a message I got from a reader several years ago. I don't remember now if it was a comment or an email. But the reader apologized for not being in touch for the same reason as the recent commenter -- he was just not thinking about FL as much as he had.
I remember telling him that an apology wasn't necessary. It was an excellent thing that he had stepped back from reading and thinking so much about the disease.
This is one of several reasons why I don't monetize this blog. No advertisements. No subscriptions. No sponsors. No merchandise. I know lots of health advocates who do those things, and I wish them luck. I know some of them have health issues that make it very hard for them to hold a full-time job, and the monetizing of their online accounts is an important source of income for them. I know I'm very fortunate to not have to be in that situation.
But I also know that monetizing this blog would change things. A lot. For one thing, I'd be panicked every time I had a reader say that they were stepping back from reading so much about FL, and scrambling to figure out how to keep them. I don't want to have to put that much energy into this. I already put enough into it.
It's always interesting to look at this blog's analytics -- the data that Google sends me about readers. To be clear, I don't receive any information about you as an individual. Unless you tell me who you are in a comment or an email, I have no idea who is reading the blog.
But I do get information about how many people have accessed the blog every day, and I can see how many people from a particular country have read that day. (I've had readers from over 80 countries, which is really very cool to me.) So sometimes I will see a sudden spike in the number of readers from a particular country, and then maybe I'll get an email from someone in that country. I can make the connection -- that reader and maybe members of their family have gone back and read a few years' worth of entries. And then the activity from that country dies down. Maybe after a few weeks or months, I don't get much activity at all from them.
I can see the rhythms of readership. Sometimes I get a whole lot of readers. Sometimes I don't get many. And then I get a lot again.
And that's fine with me. When someone is newly diagnosed, they are looking for information. I'm happy that I can be a trusted source for them. Maybe I get lots of comments from them, maybe some emails. I welcome all of them. I love hearing from readers and I'm happy to help in any way I can, even if it's just listening to your story. (But I can't give out medical advice, because I'm not a doctor.)
And that's the nature of this disease for many of us. It comes to us as a surprise, and it grows slowly enough that we can just not think about it much after a while. As much as I love to hear from readers, I also love to hear that someone has "graduated" and they don't think about me and the blog anymore. I don't take it personally. I recognize the rhythms.
For those of you who do drift away, go with my blessing. And if we've had some long communications by email in the past, but not in the present, know that I think about a lot of you and wonder how you are doing. I assume you're doing well. I'm tempted to email you sometimes to check in on you, but I also know that if you're in a good place, you probably don't need the reminder about the disease that you would get from me.
So please drift away if you need to. I don't need the readership. I love having it, but I don't need it.
I plan on being here for a while.
Take care, everyone.
