When you're faced with a life altering situation you find yourself as part on an unenviable (maybe) exclusive little club made up of people in similar situations. My cancer diagnosis and consequent treatment landed me in a very exclusive club. The initiation fee and hazing suck, but as a result I've met a lot of amazing people and made some very good friends. Many of these friends I've never met in person, but we keep up with one another through blogs, IM's, and email.
The trouble with this club is that you lose people at an alarming rate and March and April have been horrible months for this. I greet each day with a little dread and anger over their relapses and really hope that some experimental drug or combination thereof exists that can help them. Only modern medicine doesn't work that quickly and qualifying for drug trials usually takes more time than most people have.
Not feeling like I've had anything positive to report has kept me from blogging the last few days. I'm very well with minor GvHD twinges that keep me guessing from day to day. I believe it's the fact that I've been doing well that makes me feel guilty in the face of what some friends are facing. This isn't a pity party--far from it. I refuse to play the "poor me" card because it's not a part of my deck.
I'm working on shaking this funk and I promise to be back in the next few days, recognizable as myself--big goofy smile and all.