Hemingway once said life's most exhilarating experience was to be shot at - and MISSED. I kinda know what the famous writer was talking about with one small exception. It's also pretty damn exhilarating to be shot at and HIT.
Prostate cancer HIT me almost 10 years ago. The reason I bring this up is because in a few weeks I'll reach a major milestone in my prostate cancer battle. I'll take a blood test that'll determine if I'm a 10-year survivor **MISSED**or if there's a sign it's coming back **HIT**.
My money's on MISSED, but as we've already learned in blog class, the universe is totally f***ing random. Or as my own philosophy sums it up: Shit happens. Sometimes shit happens to you.
We covered this on the mid-term. Jeez, try and keep up.
I'm not pessimistic (although we ALL know pessimists are seldom disappointed). But, that doesn't stop me from being anxious. It also doesn't stop me from having a little fun. Quirky. Uncomfortable. Fun. You know, the stuff I do.
When I had my annual checkup last year, I reminded Dr. Lee of my our ten year anniversary. I told him I expected a gift if I got another clean report. Something small...like a BMW 7 series...Rolex Submariner...hovercraft with lasers and a bitchin' sound system...a trinket to commemorate the occasion.
He laughed. Dude knows I'm serious. The serious part is that I'll be seriously delirious if I get a clean bill of health.
When I was diagnosed one of the first things I did was name my cancer. After rejecting the first name that popped into my head ("ASSHOLE") I decided to call him KARL. For 10 years I've been doing the Karl dance which consists of blood work, followed by a doctor's appointment. Right now I'm 9-0 in the Karl arena.
It's been a long road. But fortunately, a road with clean, well-lighted restrooms and the assurance that every year I keep Karl outta my bidness, my survival odds improve.
Ten years isn't the finish line, but it's always been a goal. I'll find out in January if I've extended my streak to 10-0.
If that happens, then allow me to apologize in advance for that crazy sumbitch on the hovercraft.
He's not pointing those lasers at you. He's aiming at a miserable bastard named Karl.