Part 4 of my “Hey, e’er’body, I have cancer!” blog series is about who this disease truly belongs to…
The simple fact is, when it comes to having cancer, I have the easy job. I really do.
When I was diagnosed, it was horrible. Hell, it’s still horrible. I refuse to entertain the notion that I’m dying, because I’m not dying. I will survive this. I might be a little beaten and bruised afterward, but I’m gonna’ get through it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a horrible experience. It totally is.
I mean, it’s worse than having to watch the movie Teen Wolf, Too. It’s worse than seeing Miley Cyrus stick out her tongue. It’s worse than Highlander 2. And yes… it’s even worse than wanting corn nuggets but being unable to have them.
It’s that bad.
But guess what? There’s one thing that would be worse than finding out I have cancer.
And that would be finding out my wife has cancer.
Or my mother. Or my father or brother or sister or any of my nieces and nephews.
Obviously, my point is this… the only thing worse than getting cancer is finding out someone you love has cancer.
And that’s exactly what my family is going through right now.
So, yeah… I have the easy job.
All I have to do is fight cancer.
But my wife has to watch me fight it. She has to watch me suffer. She has to watch me be scared.
And that’s something I hope I never, ever have to endure.
My wife is my hero. She has been stronger than I could ever be in her situation, and I’ll be spending the rest of my (long) life serving her, just to make up for all she has already done for me.
I love the outpouring of support I’ve gotten through this. When you send good thoughts my way, I gobble them up like a Klingon gobbles up a full serving of bregit lung.
But when you send those good thoughts, please send some additional love and support my wife’s way.
Because, really, if there’s a hero throughout this ordeal, it’s my beautiful wife.