If you’ve been a follower of my blogs or have read any of them, you probably know that I’m a person who lives with cancer. I won’t bore you with a lot of details here, because I’ve laid the specifics out before. Suffice it to say, I have what’s called Multiple Myeloma. Some really bad stuff that takes the lives of 11,000 people in the United States each year. The overall five-year survival rate is about 30%. I’m one of the blessed ones. I’m a twenty-plus-year survivor. My journey has been one of fear, tears, boisterous laughter, faith, love, thankfulness…whatever emotional and mental dynamic of which you could possibly imagine.
Tomorrow starts a new decade. What does that mean? I’ll tell you. I was diagnosed with this disease twenty years ago, March 12, 2,000. So, it’s been twenty years and four months for me that I’ve lived with this burden. I emphasize, live. I can recall when I received word of my diagnosis. As you can imagine, it hit me like a proverbial ton of bricks. And I must admit, I did go through some emotional trauma at the bottom of that dark pit that one can find themselves in at certain stages of life. If you’ve experienced receiving some heart-stopping news before, you know what I’m talking about. Not only does it seem as if your heart stops, but also the world around you.
If you’ve been doing the math, you probably are already asking yourself what in tarnation am I talking about; March 12, 2020 was twenty years since diagnosis; therefore, the new decade started four months ago. That’s true, and I’m praying that I will live another twenty years with this disease, even better than that, I’m hopeful that a cure will be found soon. That’s not the new decade to which I’m referring. Tomorrow will be my seventieth birthday.
Looking back, I didn’t expect to be here pecking out some of my thoughts on a laptop, preparing to share them with my small number of followers. I’m grateful for each of you, and especially for the times you’ve given me feedback. I’ve been able to see my three kids grow into adulthood, and I now have six grandkids and one great grandchild. I love them all, and I think that’s quite the God-given legacy to leave behind. Of course, I’m not ready to go just yet. They, along with my dedicated and loving wife, Chris, have provided much of what I consider the reason I’m still here. I know medical science has played a huge role, but one must have a reason to live. God gave them to me, and He has blessed me with the gift of being around to be a part of something that will stretch out for years to come. Thank God for seventy! We’re about six hours away from tomorrow, but I’m confident I’ll make it.
I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.