My oncologist tells me about her every time he sees me.
Apparently, she's his one, shinning success.
He never mentions his other patients so I figure they've all died.
The poor doctor only has one patient as an example of why I should get a shot in my butt once each month ... and possibly an oral medication too.
"Think about it," he concludes. "You don't have to make a decision now. Let's wait and see what happens."
What could happen is my cancer continues to spread after the surgery that was to have gotten it all.
It would have been a spectacular success because they cut out almost all the cancer leaving only a few tiny growths on the outside of my liver.
"Why didn't you get those too, since you were already inside of me?"
"I had to wait and see what the Oncologist said," explains the surgeon, "but if he can't treat it I can go back in and cut it out."
Shaking my head, I struggle to understand modern medicine in America.
"It could be we start treatment in a few months," my Oncologist continues, "or a few years or ... maybe you'll be like this woman and you'll still be getting a shot in the butt 15 years from now."
In the meantime, I get an MRI every three months to see what the tiny spots on my liver are doing.
"How much time I got Doc?" I ask.
My Oncologist is horrified by the question, stumbles over words and again recounts the story of the woman who's gotten 180 shots in her butt ... and counting!
That's all he's got in terms of assurance.
We know the survival rate of Stage 4 pancreatic cancer isn't great, regardless you get shots in the butt!
The last photograph of Steve Jobs runs through my mind, a frail, white body held up by another, looking intensely away from the camera towards ... who knows? ... the faded memory of a used up and worn out past ... or death coming closer.
I've lost lots of weight but not like Steve Jobs.
When I look at myself in the mirror, I see more than what I am.
I'm a man in love with a wonder of a woman ready to unleash our life of Tropical adventure ... father of a three year old girl who's revolutionized our lives ... Stepfather to teenage girls who drop surprises into every single day ... Dad to adult children each making the world a better place ...Granddad to Ava, Nina, Ethan and Lily ... a writer, musician, Bar-room preacher, Beach Bum ... a catalog of true life stories, admirer of nature and fathomless optimist!
I don't look like Steve Jobs.
I think about sex ... A LOT! ... with my wife!
I'm ready for my healing to be over.
I got too much to do.
"Slow down," Sarah admonishes, "and don't pick up anything that weights more than a gallon of milk."
It's a tricky balance between anticipation and reality.
I've got far more living to do than I have dying.
When I die, I'm gone so I'm not putting energy into that right now.
I don't spend a lot of time thinking about Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.
I'm far more interesting in this wonder of a woman ... a 3 year old little girl ... my house full of teens ... kids and grand kids ... writing to do, music to make, stories to tell and a host of other things.
When I'm not focused on the important parts of living, it's a real pain in the butt.
