Where does the time go? As I struggle about whether or not to keep this blog going - if not posting for more than a month constitutes "keeping it going" - I do have to reflect on this date, April 26, and its meaning to me. For it was 12 years ago, as a healthy 50 year old, I was told "You have a large mass in the middle of your chest, something that should not be there." The radiologist had written the word "Lymphoma?" on the edge of the X-ray, and that is just what it turned out to be: Hodgkin's lymphoma.
It was like a bolt from the blue. Time stood still as I listened in shock. Thoughts poured through my brain. "How is this possible?" "Will I still be alive by Christmas?" "How will I tell my wife this news?"
That day lead to about a month of all kinds of tests, and then six months of living in a toxic world as I got the four awful drugs that saved my live while ravaging my body. They may yet have the last laugh, as they themselves are carcinogenic, and two of them cause heart and lung damage. But so far, so good.
How much I have done in 12 years! When this posts, I will be off in the wilderness of West Virginia backpacking - a great way to celebrate the day and my return to strength. I've done hikes all over the place, and seen some dream places - Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Glacier, and Alaska. I've heading to Scotland later this year. I held my granddaughter on the day of her birth. And along the way, I have given back, raising over $60,000 for the cancer fighting cause while doing three marathons, four half marathons, and a sixty mile walk. Like anyone, the 12 years have had sadness and some heartbreak, but that is all part of life. My glass is way more than half-full. And I hope for many more years ahead before I take that last breath on earth, as we all do at some point.
The Group Hike That Kind of Wasn't
4 years ago