Since our beloved piece of shit was discovered before it actually had a chance to show its nasty side with seizures and profound headaches, I suppose you could say that we hit the jackpot.
The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow where you discover your fate but the sticker on the pot has no expiration date but a damn huge price tag.
I get asked, ALL THE TIME:
What is it like living in stability knowing what’s down the road?
In hindsight, would you want to know now, or would you want to find out later when things got bad like most people? What’s worse?
Is it a blessing or is it a curse?
Truth be told, I feel like the fish at the Aquarium. With people looking into our tank with tremendous curiosity and wonder. Heads turned gazing through the glass wondering what it’s like in there while we swim along in the tank looking back through the glass curious ourselves what all the curiosity is all about. It’s often startling and I must admit, I don’t quite understand the curiosity. It’s our life and it seems so normal. I often miss the obvious of why people are so drawn to the story.
This is all I know. This is our life, this is our reality and this is our normal now.
We take it one day at a time like most folks do. Except our days are spent with less time worrying about the bull-shit. We’ve come to terms with the fact that the friends we didn’t hear from in the early days, weeks and months and still haven’t heard from, we’ll never hear from. We’ve come to terms that friends who treated us really crappy were really never our friends.
It no longer stings, and it no longer surprises us.
We’ve quietly accepted that the gravity of our situation is more than some can or even want to handle. We get annoyed when people treat us like fragile egg shells when in reality we’re more like Ostrich eggs that you have to use a drill to crack open.
We’ve agreed emphatically that this whole experience has been a blessing and a gift. Not simply because we cherish each day, but because once you start weeding through that garden of friendship and clear the fields, you suddenly have plenty of room for who and what is important in your lives.
Food tastes better, laughter sounds better and fun is more fun.
I hate this tumor. I hate what it has changed in our lives and how it has created a level of stress, dread and palpable fear that coexists in our lives. I do however, respect this tumor. Like a heavyweight fighter, I respect its strength and the ass beating it can shell out. I respect the opportunity this tumor has provided for us to change and I respect the time it has permitted us to live. Really live.
So yes, I am glad I know. I can’t imagine not knowing and yes, it’s a blessing and not a curse.
You take what your given and you move forward and you fight. You lick your wounds and get back up and fight like hell, take no prisoners and screw apologizing. This is war. My war.
June 20, 2007 we began living a new life. In a brief moment, the world stopped spinning and a resounding smack signaled the closure of the life we knew. Nothing would ever be the same and we’d never be the same people again.
Nevertheless, life forges ahead. As I did three years ago and 6 hours after walking out of the Neurosurgeon’s office, I’ll celebrate my friend Kelly’s birthday. There’s a yin and yang to everything in life and within that is a tremendous amount of healing.
We began three years ago a journey and along the way we’ve invited you onto our journey. With forethought that it would be a lonely journey, I opened my heart and mind and have delighted in your encouragement and your support.
As we approach the three-year mark I know we’ll be celebrating another year of stability and trying not to think about the law of averages. Wondering if another year of stability is bringing us closer to the other side. The tipping point of the side of borrowed time.
Borrowed, owned, leased, stolen, bartered, begged, negotiated or earned. I have time and I love my time and I am at peace.