No, I’m not about to reveal some heretofore unknown affliction – I’m just fine, thanks for asking.
I don’t think of myself as having been involved in a lot of cancer drama, but when I look back on my life, I see a different pattern. My grandmother’s breast cancer, when I was still in grade school. My dad’s battle with prostate cancer that became one of our main topics of conversation for half a decade. The wildfire lung and liver cancer that took my granddad not too long ago.
And once again, I’m involved in that same long fight; once again, I’m on the sidelines – watching, cheering as much as I can, but ultimately more than a little helpless. My dad is back in the crosshairs, this time for something operable that’s hopefully been caught early and is easily excised.
I’m starting to hate that word.