Do the Right Thing

When I was first diagnosed with cancer I wanted to talk to everyone about it, especially others who had cancer. I wanted to read about it, everything I could get my hands on.

But after awhile, it wears you down.

The Kidney Cancer Association operates a great blog where fellow cancer survivors can compare notes, share stories, and generally interact. Early on I had forged regular communications with a couple in northern California. The husband and I had both experienced metastic cancer to the brain, went through whole brain radiation and were on the chemotherapy Nexavar. It was a valuable and cherished experience. Then he passed away.

I also made contact with a gentleman in Georgia whose experiences were much like mine. He was a strong-willed, a well-versed individual who referred to kidney cancer survivors as "warriors." He opened himself up to kidney cancer patients everywhere. He was a champion to many. Then he passed away.

I face a decision everyday on how much to turn myself into a resource for other cancer patients. It's a tough decision.

On one hand it's such an honorable thing. To share the burden of others on your own shoulders. To reassure others, to help others, from your own experiences. But it will wear you down.

It's difficult to focus your life solely on the disease, not just your situation, but everyones. I have so much admiration for those who do.

I could easily "advertise" myself on the Kidney Cancer Association's blogs, and the e-mails would stream in from across the United States. I could start everyday hearing about everyone elses situations and sharing mine.

Sure I'd pull value from these interactions and it would enrich my personal experiences. But it does come with a price. It can be very sad at times, very discouraging at times, very depressing.

On the other hand, there is life, continuing to live, to love, to laugh.

There are events to attend. The junk man is coming for a major pick-up tomorrow. I want to design, take photos. I want to draw. I've been dying to get a huge canvas and have Barb and I splash paint around in the backyard and make a big abstract painting for the house. I want to live.

So to those who do lay their experiences out there for others, my hat is off to you. You are a genuine hero. At some point, at some time, I may attempt to achieve that lofty goal as well.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about cancer everyday. I do. But I don't think about it all day.