I've been doing ok lately, whistling past the graveyard and pretending everything is smooth. But every once in a while (like today) I get reminded that I've got cancer. Ok, not that I've got cancer. That I've got what is currently incurable cancer. With a really lousy survival rate. I'm really, really good at denial - World Champ, as a matter of fact. But this tumor that I call Hank is going to kill me.
But that doesn't mean that I have to let him win. I am not just this collection of skin and bones - in fact, that's not the most important part of me. I can still create something that will last for others, and I can still polish the most important parts of me - the ones that I believe live on beyond this world. My relationships with my family and friends, my intellect, my compassion, my dreams... Hank can't take those if I don't allow him to.
He's been winning the war so far by limiting my movements outside the home, by tiring me out, by screwing with my emotions. But I'm going to start fighting back again.
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