Humor not lost, but emotions/reality sinking in . . .

WARNING: Adult themes/emotions/language ahead.  Viewer discretion is advised.

On Tuesday, when the doctor first reported this tumor, he mentioned to me that treatment may involve radiation, surgery, and possibly even chemotherapy.  But that all was contingent upon the biopsy results and, furthermore, I may have already reached my lifetime limit of chemotherapy.  My response: "Well good, I didn't want to go through chemo anyway; I couldn't handle losing my hair again!"  TuesDave

When I got home, Holly had a great one: "Let's kick cancer in the butt!"  We both laughed.  Unfortunately though, that's my butt too!  And right now it looks like it's kicking my ass!

For those who have read my blog in previous years, you may think of me as a very positive-thinking person.  Though I certainly have and can be that person, I tend to rather think of myself as the kind of person who wants to make the best of a bad situation.  For me, everything is not rainbows and butterflies; it simply is what it is.  And from there we, as individuals, decide how to interpret the data presented to us.

For example, when I was first diagnosed 10 1/2 years ago, initially I was kind of sad/depressed and wondered "why me?"  But after my first round of chemotherapy, all such thoughts evaporated.  No, the chemo did not dissolve those thoughts, I just came to realize (through additional data) that I was actually pretty fortunate.  As I walked the 7th floor there at Emory Midtown Hospital (then Crawford Long), I met many other sarcoma patients who had cases far more difficult/complex than mine.  Yet, somehow, every one of them found a way to be positive and optimistic.  So certainly if they could be happy/positive/optimistic, so could I!  I maintained that attitude throughout the following weeks, months, and years.  The reality now, however, is I am that other person, my situation is now this difficult/complex case.

Though the jury is still out (in that a diagnosis has not yet been delivered), I'm fairly certain that my case is somewhere between fucked and totally screwed!  Short of some miracle cure, such as targeted cancer therapy, I think the best I can do is to buy time.  Possibly the newly open Emory Proton Therapy Center might be able to slow or possibly even stop the growth of this tumor.  We shall see.

More than anything, I just want to live!  I want to (eventually) retire from my job, move to Florida, and grow old with Holly.  Just this past month Holly and I visited a master-planned community there in Florida called Nocatee (just south of Jacksonville and north of St. Augustine).  It's a beautiful area and we fit right in.  It was our goal to move there in 5 years, right after our youngest boy Kyle, now a high school senior, graduates from college.  Now, literally, only God knows . . . and He has yet to share the news.

So, I'm wide open for any devine intervention and/or medical miracles!

Pro Tip: It really is hard to keep your emotions in check while waiting for a diagnosis!