This one’s for John

Today, one of my best friends told me he has colon cancer. I can’t say I was totally surprised. It’s been a hot summer here, and about two weeks ago, I saw John with his shirt buttons open. His rib cage looked as though it was about to pop out of his chest. John is skinny to begin with, but I knew then that something was wrong. When one gets that thin, there’s a problem.

John said the cancer is at least at stage 3. He has to wait about 10 days for test results to come back before he knows if it’s at stage 4. The second I got home, I looked up colon cancer survival rates. Between stages 3 and 4, they drop off dramatically. He’s nervous about waiting so long for results, and I can’t blame him.

You never want to hear news like this, but I was glad he told me. I was also glad that he cried when he told me. In cases like this, crying is healthy–and needed. John felt so much better afterward. I only wish I could have cried with him. For me, the tears had to wait until I was alone. It always has been difficult for me to cry around people. I wish I could change that.

John wants to fight this. He is already part of a cancer survivors group. I was so glad to hear this. Like me, John has chronic depression. Like me, John has attempted suicide. But now, he wants to fight. That’s proof to me that he really does he really does not want to kill himself.

I’ve often thought that if I were diagnosed with a serious illness, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I have told myself “I want to die anyway, so an illness would be my excuse.” But, spending time with John today, I realize how wrong–and stupid–it is to think that way.

John is doing the best he can to absorb this news, but there is still so much he wants to do. He wants to spend time with his grown sons. He wants to see every classic movie he possibly can. More than anything, he wants to get Bernie Sanders elected President. As he told me today, “I want to help Bernie start a revolution. I’m a child of the ’60s. I love revolutions!”

Alone now, I cry for John. But I’m not going to tell him that. I’m just going to be there for him. The Last Picture Show is playing on the big screen here in Boston next week. We both love that movie.

We’re going to go see it. That’s all there is to it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

The Waltham Review

The Waltham Review: America's Choice in Nanomedia!

Lifestyle Blog: living with fear & anxiety

The real time thoughts of Sabrina

Eye Will Not Cry

"Eye Fly High"

Dearest Someone,

Writing about wellbeing

Dear Hope

Mental health advocacy through storytelling and art.

A Narcissist Writes Letters, To Himself

A Hopefully Formerly Depressed Human Vows To Practice Self-Approval

Megan Has OCD

About Mental Health, Daily Struggles, and Whatever Else Pops in My Head

My Wonderland. Mental Health Blog

Finding normality within Bipolarity. The inner musings of a chemically challenged manic-depressive. Mildly* asocial and a purveyor of awesome.

GentleKindness

Healing Truth Artistry

Grief Happens

So Does Joy

I Want To Go To There

A Blog About: Coping with depression, the people and animals I love, and finding the things that make me really fucking happy.

Seth Adam Smith

Life Is Worth Living

The Elephant in the Room

Writing about my experiences with: depression, anxiety, OCD and Aspergers

Running Heartless

My transformation from Depressed Couch Potato to Disney Runner

Fred Colton

Posts To Delete Later

The Persistent Platypus

Life's journey may not always be easy, but being true to your unique self and finding laughter in the small things makes the adventure unforgettable!

Caffeine and Salt

Watch your step, I lost my meaning.

%d bloggers like this: