It's been five years to the day since I was diagnosed with cancer. Here is the journal entry of how I reacted to my diagnosis
five years ago today. I won my coin toss.
I don't have any real thoughts on this, at least none that I want to share; it just seems like something I should acknowledge.
I don't want any congratulations. Five years removed from
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I never know how to answer when people want to know how I'm doing, because generally the answer is that I'm not terminally ill or critical or anything so dramatic- and people definitely want to know that fundamental bit, and they certainly have good reason to wonder- but also that I have a number of things wrong with me, both in the long and short term, and they're the sort of things that most people would consider pretty major. I don't know how to put that kind of information in a concise, casual answer.
I need to have both my hips replaced, for instance, but since we haven't talked in a while, you don't know if I have more than a week to live or if I'm terminally ill or anything, because I certainly have been before and I could turn back that way. If I say I'm doing badly, you might get scared I'm "critically ill/dying" sick. If I say I'm doing well, that's ignoring that I need two hip replacements, major ( ... )
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Anyway, I think about you all the time, and I wish there was some way to help you make a life that was worth being appreciated. I think your feelings are absolutely normal and justified.
(Sorry I'm late in telling you this - it's been ages since I've been on here.)
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