The Ass Cancer.

Posted on July 8, 2014


IMG_1633“Hey dude, what’s up?”

“Not much, I just found out I have cancer. So… you know.”

“Shut up, man. Wanna go for a bike ride or something later?

“Dude, I’m serious. I just found out a couple days ago.”

“Yeah right….”

And the circle of conversation continues until the gravity of people’s associations with the ‘C word’ sinks in. Then there’s often some lingering silences interrupted by a handful of ‘holy shits’ and ‘what the fucks?’

I don’t suspect any of that will change in the foreseeable future. I still ask myself, ‘what the fuck?’

What happens when something like this isn’t a distant relative of a friend of a friend, or that old lady down the street you wave at on your way to work in the morning? It’s me this time. Me. I’ll tell you what happens… nothing. It’s really not that different. Weeks into this thing, it still feels like we’re talking about someone else, like some kind of dream-state third-person reality.

We don’t often, as a species, understand this world we inhabit and much of what happens here. Good things happen to bad people, bad to good people, even existence itself are things that we don’t seem to be equipped to understand. Particularly because I don’t even qualify for rectal cancer for another 25-30 years. I feel no different than I did two days ago, than I did two months ago, than I did two years ago.

And I’m not different, Really. I just have some ass cancer.

…and a very different coming year than I had thought.

My good friend in Korea, Mr. Kim, left me with these words will forever resonate, “Wick, (which sounded more like ‘Week’) we don’t know our future.” True. We exist in the present, standing on the shoulders of those before us, attempting to do the things and create a direction for our future success-but we don’t know our future. I believe Mr. Kim was purposely vague. Because both good and bad… we simply ‘don’t know our future.’

We can just revel, celebrate, tackle, embrace, or pursue our present self, situation, and direction. It’s the most difficult, simple thing to do.

And if we’re lucky, truly lucky… we figure out how to do it all simultaneously.



Posted in: Cancer