Wow! It is officially three years since I began writing my story. One-hundred and sixty four entries to date. A blog that would chronicle my life from the day I was diagnosed with Leukemia. The premise of revealing my life to the world was essentially a form of personal therapy. A release from the boredom of the Covid shutdown. Netflix was just not doing it for me anymore. Well, I saved a lot of cash on a therapist! All kidding aside, it was genuinely a wonderful experience. I have received so many kind and emotional responses by readers from all over. Thank you all for following along while I expounded on so many issues, good, bad and ugly. I apologize if I may have bored you occasionally on life topics that may or may not have been directly connected to my cancer. You can definitely tell how much I love my family and how proud I am of them.
When you write a story about your personal experience about your fight with cancer, it can get to be very emotional. Every cancer survivor could write their own book, I’m sure. Many would just like to forget about their ordeal altogether. It’s difficult at times. The memories become so vivid and intense when you relive them on paper, per se’. There were many times that I had to stop and catch my breath as tears flowed down my face. Times that I had to put my laptop aside and take a break. Sometimes for weeks. My reality really sucked. I went to the movies this week with my wife…. “Somewhere in Queens”. In the middle of the movie, starring Ray Romano and Laurie Metcalf, Ray and his wife had an intense scene where she completely lost it and broke down in public. She was trying to handle information of what she thought was a relapse of her breast cancer. Screaming at her husband, who was trying to console her, lamenting that he could never comprehend what she was feeling and how scared she was of potentially relapsing after her original diagnoses. This scene hit home really hard. I glanced over at Lor and saw her crying. Tears were coming out of my eyes as well. We were in the last aisle of the theater where thankfully no one could see or feel our pain as we both simultaneously and vividly relived that same scenario, and worse. There were no words. We both knew and understood how we were feeling at that moment. It’s PTSD, pure and simple. It was tough.
Leukemia is a complicated blood cancer. There are so many variations and so many different treatment options that accompany those variations. Also, when you are diagnosed with Leukemia, you notice how it has become the cancer “du jour” in movies and TV shows. It seems like almost every person or child in the movies with a cancer plot has Leukemia. Anyway, to me it just validates the seriousness of the disease. A major pull at your heartstrings. In a nutshell, during the many years that I have been living with Leukemia, I have met many wonderful people. While in the first five years of treatment, there were so many patients in the same boat as me that I met and fought alongside. Many of those warriors are no longer with us. Diagnosed before the Gleevec revolution, like me, they hadn’t survived long enough to partake in the next generation of Leukemia wonder drugs. I was able to hang in long enough after my bone marrow transplant for those drugs to be developed and eventually I’ve survived because of them. I’m honored to be able to tell my story for those contemporaries and all of the Leukemia warriors past and present.
As all good things must come to an end though, my story will end here too. My present day condition is status quo. Some days I feel great and some not so great. On the good days, I tell myself, “I feel good today”, as I drive out of my development towards my store or wherever I may be headed. I cherish those days. I’ll continue to take my Chemo medication everyday like I have for the past twenty three years since “I have no other choice…or else”. Right now, I’m in a good place. I can’t predict the future, but hopefully, my adventure will continue on for a long, long time…
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