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Eleven years, six months and two weeks, approximately, after being diagnosed with "terminal" cancer: stage IV non small cell lung cancer, I have begun my treatment for stage IV papillary thyroid cancer.
As I sit and write here, with too much time on my hands, I can't help but consider my lot in life.
Not that I'm the most-stressed about it, but I am at least stressed about a bone scan I'm having this week.
Centreville 9/11 widow, five years later.
Whether or not I'm certain about my attitude toward being a dual cancer threat (non small cell lung and papillary thyroid, cancer), only my subconscious knows for sure.
What kind of world do you want to live in, a world where you have no problems or issues to fix in your community?
Sixty-five volunteer for Arlington Point in Time homeless count.
Sure enough, the email from my oncologist didn't arrive in my inbox before we left for the weekend away on Friday.
Or to quote my high school baseball coach: "Reorientated."
Well, those last two weeks were kind of fun, (comparatively speaking) to the dozen or so previous weeks.
...and now I'm out – of the Handel's Messiah sweepstakes.
Even if I don't agree, I can at least respect candidates who defend the Seminary Road "diet."
They sold their house and left their dog behind. Seriously.
The garbage truck hauled all kinds of junk away, boxes were packed and furniture wrapped.