This week marks the two-year anniversary of my lung cancer diagnosis. On November 8, 2017 I wasn’t sure I’d make it to Christmas – my breath was that labored and the news that overwhelming. So I’m writing today to say… I’m here. I’m alive. I’m making plans. I’m not naïve about my diagnosis, but I’m also not limited when I think about the time I have. I celebrate the contents of the last 730 days: family, friends, Juno the dog, pigs, a chicken coop, ducks, rabbit babies, Maine, Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, Florida, Texas, Cancun, volleyball, cross-country, Girls on the Run, science club, 3 5K’s, work, play, rest, love, music… I look forward to more. I have a large stack of books to read. I have words and songs I want to write. I can’t wait to get seeds in the ground this spring. I’m thinking about building a deck. With help. I’m making room for the best days of my life. That last line? Impossible to imagine two years ago. Utterly impossible. But here I am, with cancer, rediscovering the simple, profound truth that joy is a source in a life well lived and not a result. My heart, my love, my gratitude for all, near and far, now and long ago, who provide such beautiful, compelling source material. Here’s to the year ahead. And the next…
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So...I have stage IV lung cancer and I write about that here. If you're out there and you're fighting cancer, solidarity. If you read "lung cancer" and you wonder if I was a smoker, read this. Living with cancer is a daily, death-defying reality - one that pushes me to not simply defy death, but to affirm life, bless goodness, cheer for wonder, celebrate beauty... you get the idea. I hope I do that here. Archives
September 2020
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