Pass The Tequila

I had always been pretty healthy. A gym regular with a solid diet. Never any significant health issues or known hereditary diseases within my family.

I remember getting into stretching - my own version of yoga at the time. It relaxed me after work and before bed. One day, I noticed my right thigh seemed almost twice as large as the other. I figured it might have been the leg muscle overcompensating from wearing my work bag over that side's shoulder. Seems silly now, but without pain or discomfort I wasn't as concerned.

At some point during work, I showed my coworker and they noticed a warm sensation (which was new). I immediately booked an emergency doctor's appointment where I was then relayed to get an MRI.

I knew nothing about this type of scan and was completely unprepared for the claustrophobia and intimidating noises. Thankfully, I got through it but everything was happening so quickly that I was still in denial - just getting through the MRI seemed like an achievement that distracted me from the greater danger.

When I got home, Kori and I had ordered in and I remember thinking to myself that maybe (the gravity of the situation wasn't sinking in) I should fill my parents in on the day's events. I explained how it all seemed off and that we should know more in a few days- just then being interrupted by the beep from another call. It was the doctor. Wow, what great service. Calling me back that same night, on a Friday nonetheless.

And then it all came crashing down. You could hear it in his voice. That delicate and pitying tone you assume only comes out for unfortunate strangers or characters in movies and TV. Never to you personally. I was supposed to be young and invincible - at least for another 20 or 30 years.

Doctors rarely show their cards until everything is completely confirmed. As a next step, I was urged to meet a bone specialist first thing in the morning. Still, I was fishing for answers. How bad? I asked. He wouldn't indulge completely but cautioned me to avoid googling osteosarcoma, his way of saying it without saying it.

I still remember being frozen as my brain's hard drive crashed trying to process everything. This was as foreign to me as being told I'd fly to Mars the next day. Getting cancer out of the blue at only 30 years old was not within the realistic scenarios of my day to day life.

A few years later and I am plenty wiser. I've gone through hell and back. A few times. There have been periods when I've thought to myself I will definitely beat this thing (more so in the beginning), and others where I'm sure that I am completely fucked (after every conversation with a doctor).

I'm somewhere in between at the moment. It's still difficult to relive this experience without shuddering or shedding a few tears. My crash course on growing up. The surreal phone calls to my bosses, family and friends...

And then there's my beautiful wife (fiancee at the time). After hearing the brutal news, she could have walked right out the door. We weren't married. She didn't sign up for this. But Kori didn't run or hide... She pulled out a bottle of tequila for us to numb the pain. Together. Till the End.

In a few weeks, we head to Tulum for our first vacation in forever. No amount of beach and sunshine can mask the terror we face every day, but this time while sharing tequila I'll savor every lucky moment I get with her.

She has been and will alway be my strength throughout the madness.