I invite you to join me on my current journey.

I have always considered myself to be unique in many ways even though that fact has never helped me in Powerball or even Pick 3 for that matter. As it turns out, I have been visited with an extremely rare but very lethal challenge; Cancer of the Bile Duct. Statistically there are only 20,000 cases nationwide each year which in a way puts me in an extremely select group.

After a lot of mental wrangling I finally came to the decision to examine my medical options. My journey took me to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, MD which is a monolithic institution that probably has its own zip code. As is their protocol, I met with the surgeon who after an extremely careful review of my situation proposed an extremely invasive surgery called the Whipple. I had a hard time taking it seriously at first because it reminded me of a bygone encouragement to not squeeze the Charmin.

Once the gravity of the situation settled in and after the surgeon showed me in graphic detail how he proposed to gut me like a fish I elected to reach in and take hold of my inner machismo. Why fight fate? I figured that my number was up and all I could do was to bravely face the inevitable. I asked for a couple of rounds of chemo and a prescription for morphine; my version of a swig of bourbon and a bullet to bite on.

That machismo wilted under the blazing stare of my wife who let me know in no uncertain terms that this journey was going to take a hard turn at my decision to bite the bullet. I wimped out like a man because in the structure of our marriage, she makes all of the minor decisions and I as the head of our household make all of the major decisions. She let me know that in no uncertain terms that this was a minor decision and as such she had every right to make it.

Upon further reflection however, my bullet and bourbon response was a thinly veiled attempt to cover my fear and cowardice. Yes, cancer is one nasty slimy heartless vermin who not only refused to play fair but has devised a multiplicity of ways to wrap his attack in a cloak of darkness physically and spiritually.

Emboldened by my wife's withering stare, I decided that this tumor has elected to land on the wrong person. Its irresistible force has come up against an immovable object. This tumor is in for a bare knuckle no holds barred, heavyweight battle that will be so vicious that it will give eyesight to the blind. I decided that when the smoke clears, I am going to be the last man standing.

Faith is funny; if you act as though it is, God has a way of granting it. In a way, it is a lot like building the bridge as you cross the river. So as I stand on this riverbank of opportunity I have already been blessed in many ways; I see clearly now what matters in life along with the many ways that God's presence encourages and emboldens me for all that lies ahead. I am no longer a victim, swept along by forces beyond my control but now an armored combatant ready for war. This is to be a journey adorned with wonderful insights and life changing views; one that I look forward to with a mixture of hope and joy.

I invite you to share this journey with me; one that you will one day walk as well.











