The Time Has Come To Close This Dialog

I began this blog as a way to communicate with my family and friends during cancer treatment, and for the first few months there was a lot to share. This dialog was an amazing experience which helped me immeasurably through the early times.

It requires a lot of reflection and emotional effort to wrestle with the idea that the presence or absence of cancer will from now on be a defining part of who I am. I find I'm incapable of writing posts or beginning conversations about this and related issues because they just feel too big to discuss. At times like this I pull inward because sharing my thoughts can only bring pain to the people I love. Whether I like it or not, the day I was diagnosed I became a part of this parallel world of people who fight, survive, and/or succumb to cancer. I tried to hold myself apart from that world, knowing my odds are so good, but I'm immersed in cancer daily, whether catching a glimpse of my bald head in the mirror, or listening to the heart-wrenching story of another person I meet in the Oncology waiting or treatment room. This is my world for now, and I want to protect my loved ones from the darkness where I live. So when I'm with loved ones I speak in mostly positive terms, even though I do try to inoculate them from future shock with the occasional reminder that I am not immune from the possibility of recurrence.

Perhaps those who read this will understand now why I'm not contributing to this blog with the same enthusiasm and frequency as at first. Reality is taking root and I have internal work to do, work I can only do in private because sharing it can only bring pain to others.

I think it's time to close this blog, which I will keep online for a few more weeks so that everyone gets a chance to read this last post. Thank you so much for your interest and encouragement. I love you all.