I was diagnosed with an as yet not determined form of non-Hodgkin cancer in 2020, and found myself adrift in an ugly pool of emotions.
It took a couple of weeks, but eventually I used my few remaining logical brain cells to arrive at a boolean question. The question ignores whether you may live with or die from your cancer..
I was diagnosed with an as yet not determined form of non-Hodgkin cancer in 2020, and found myself adrift in an ugly pool of emotions.
It took a couple of weeks, but eventually I used my few remaining logical brain cells to arrive at a boolean question. The question ignores whether you may live with or die from your cancer..
My choices:
1. Do you want to be miserable for the rest of your life, Dennis?
2. Or do you want to wake up every morning and see the sun peaking above the tops of those majestic Maine white pine trees in your back yard. If you choose #2 then it does not matter when or even if you will die from this newly discovered cancer. And thus I am obligated to find more and more joy in my life.
No, my wife wouldn't let me buy a Maserati, but I've since forgiven her.
My family doctor was well trained and read. During a routine visit to remove what I thought was a sebaceous cyst on my neck, just like the one I'd had removed 10 or 15 years early on my neck.
I thank God she recognized it as a potential cancer. She quickly excised part of that lump and sent it off to the lab at our cancer center. Yes, the lab report said non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It was a few days before the Christmas holiday.
One of my doctor friends went to the lab and raised holy cane until they agreed to finish their analysis.
That and the support from my wife, son and friends got me through the holidays.
As did the analysis that my cancer was an indolent form, and with modern treatments may turn into a chronic disease rather than a death sentence.
I suspect Dr. Hollander, you may have seen many people arrive at my equation.
And yes, I normally will have a battle between my optimistic side and the little devil who pops up to tell me how miserable I should be. Ms. Optimism keeps on winning that battle
I wish you and yours all the best. And if your prognosis really is 7 weeks, find as much joy as you can.
After all, I enjoy reading your essays, and thus have a tiny dog in your fight.
Great comment! And I apologize for the grabby title - I’ve got 7 weeks of this chemoradiation to live through if I want to live — which I do, since I feel like I don’t have a choice about parenting my daughters a good while longer. It’s an interesting way to spend 7 weeks, I can say after living through 3 of them. I’d like more of your optimism, though, to be sure! It can be hard to find at times. Many thanks for writing - Buzz
I was diagnosed with an as yet not determined form of non-Hodgkin cancer in 2020, and found myself adrift in an ugly pool of emotions.
It took a couple of weeks, but eventually I used my few remaining logical brain cells to arrive at a boolean question. The question ignores whether you may live with or die from your cancer..
My choices:
1. Do you want to be miserable for the rest of your life, Dennis?
2. Or do you want to wake up every morning and see the sun peaking above the tops of those majestic Maine white pine trees in your back yard. If you choose #2 then it does not matter when or even if you will die from this newly discovered cancer. And thus I am obligated to find more and more joy in my life.
No, my wife wouldn't let me buy a Maserati, but I've since forgiven her.
My family doctor was well trained and read. During a routine visit to remove what I thought was a sebaceous cyst on my neck, just like the one I'd had removed 10 or 15 years early on my neck.
I thank God she recognized it as a potential cancer. She quickly excised part of that lump and sent it off to the lab at our cancer center. Yes, the lab report said non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It was a few days before the Christmas holiday.
One of my doctor friends went to the lab and raised holy cane until they agreed to finish their analysis.
That and the support from my wife, son and friends got me through the holidays.
As did the analysis that my cancer was an indolent form, and with modern treatments may turn into a chronic disease rather than a death sentence.
I suspect Dr. Hollander, you may have seen many people arrive at my equation.
And yes, I normally will have a battle between my optimistic side and the little devil who pops up to tell me how miserable I should be. Ms. Optimism keeps on winning that battle
I wish you and yours all the best. And if your prognosis really is 7 weeks, find as much joy as you can.
After all, I enjoy reading your essays, and thus have a tiny dog in your fight.
Great comment! And I apologize for the grabby title - I’ve got 7 weeks of this chemoradiation to live through if I want to live — which I do, since I feel like I don’t have a choice about parenting my daughters a good while longer. It’s an interesting way to spend 7 weeks, I can say after living through 3 of them. I’d like more of your optimism, though, to be sure! It can be hard to find at times. Many thanks for writing - Buzz
I am relieved that your poorly written headline did not deal with your live expectancy, Buzz 😊