Happy Death Day To Me

Yeah, I know....the title is a bit morbid.

But apt.

8 months ago, a Ear, Nose and Throat specialist gathered Diane, my ex-wife and youngest daughter around him outside my emergency room treatment area and told them simply:



 "Take him home and make him comfortable.  There's not much more than we can do."  Needless to say, this is crushing news for loved ones.

When my ex-wife later pushed him for a more detailed prognosis, he told her, "Eight months on the outside".

Diane, not being one to trust doctors in the first place, demanded a second opinion and soon, Dr. David George, an Oncologist from Texas Oncology had me examined and ordered a battery of tests.  This time, the news was a bit better.  I was indeed a candidate for radiation and chemo therapy.  My treatment began the same day the results came in...a mere 48 hours.  Immediate treatment turned out to be the key.  I am alive today because of it.

That was 8 months ago, and as a Platinum Member of the Captain Obvious Club, I can report to you that I am indeed, not dead.

Had me or my caretakers taken the initial diagnosis of late stage 4 throat cancer as gospel, I would be.

I've never been one to place any significance on my birthday...It's always seemed a bit arrogant for me to assign any significance to my existence, or the random day my existence came to be.

I do however, acknowledge them now, but more so, I will acknowledge this date as well, from here on in.

It marks the day that I was told I would be dead.

This is an aggressive cancer, a mean, unrelenting son of a bitch, and while I am seemingly getting better and the cancer is due to be surgically and successfully removed from my body, it has a nasty ability to reoccur.

So I take nothing for granted, and every day means I have a chance to make a difference, big or small, some sort of difference.

And on this day, annually, I will choose to remember this specifically.

All-Righty Then...