It's Kind of Like...

 
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Let's take it back to November 2017, just a week after one of the greatest days of my life, my wedding, I have a follow up appointment at MSK where scans reveal new nodules have formed in both my lungs. It was then explained to me that no effective treatment exists, surgery will only lead to future recurrences, and the survival rate at this point is less than 10% after 5 years.

So yea... What do you do with that? I still remember walking out with my family in complete shock. A nightmare where you BEG with every fiber of your being for mercy to no avail.

After a few weeks of processing, you evolve from a state of paralysis to "OK, still breathing... what am I going to do today? The sun is out, that seems nice. Let's start there." You take baby steps, gradually returning to reality, and eventually your days consist of a mix of denial, freak out moments, and a heavy dose of uncertainty.

You'll read books about how a positive attitude, meditation and strong social support system can make all the difference. You'll spend a fortune on supplements you've never heard of that have the backing of minimal research support.

You'll meet with all kinds of specialists, diving head first into reiki, colonics and acupuncture. You'll buy an infrared sauna for your already too cramped apartment and you'll convince your wife this makes sense.

You'll push past boundaries you'd previously never consider. Go ahead and read up on Coffee Enemas. Yup, been there. Done that.

You'll research holistic healers and treat the habits and philosophies of these people you've never met as your holy bible.

You'll take out your frustration of the situation on conventional medicine, getting more and more worked up on conspiracy theories about how these institutions care more about profitability than solving your problem.

You'll talk to all kinds of therapists, explaining the situation and seeking answers, only to realize they're unable to offer the words that will TRULY put you at ease because those words don't exist.

You'll constantly weigh trying to plan a future to look forward to against the reality that any time you've put your guard down your world has been rocked by more surgeries, treatments and expenses.

On the other hand...

You'll see a new, beautiful side of people. Acquaintances will feel comfortable opening up to you in ways like never before. And you'll greatly appreciate that.

Relationships will be fast forwarded. The cream will rise to the top and you'll witness 'good friends' become 'family’.

The outdoors will become your temple. Sitting on a bench, listening to nature and observing the peaceful sway of greenery with the wind provides just the right sort of calm.

You will finally experience the joys of acceptance and simplicity.

And family, in particular your wife, will make you cry whenever you think about the unwavering loyalty of someone who has all the potential in the world, putting their life on hold to fight along your side every fucking day during one of the most brutal experiences imaginable.

I am very unlucky. I am also very lucky.

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