A dear friend of mine was diagnosed yesterday with prostate cancer. It runs in his family and he’s of course just as brave as can be about the whole thing. I wasn’t brave. I was bawling and begging not to be left alone for an instant. Not that I had prostate cancer…or even a prostate but you get the drift. The good news is he’s experiencing no symptoms, so at least he can still enjoy the vino and other mood enhancers.
The interesting thing about cancer, at least for me, is that I’ve gotten so much better at being selfish. A year ago, my reaction would have been “Holy shit! If there was any way I could carry this for you, I would.” Not today – hells no. No altruism here whatsoever. As horrible and heartless as it is, I’d rather he have it than me. I’d be lying if I said anything else. Fortunately, life doesn’t give us that option. (This way I can be a covert monster bitch.) I’ll still be there for him every step of the way and I don’t want him to have to handle a second of the journey alone – but I sure as hell am glad I’m not taking that journey again.
Strange how wrapped up you can get in someone else’s struggle all the same. I’m sure another fissure formed on my heart the moment he told me. Then again, I’m sure his heart fully stopped for at least two beats when he got the diagnosis. The important part is they keep beating, right? RIGHT?!?
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