Runaway Train

It's June 27, 2010 at 9:46 in the morning. My girls are upstairs asleep and I'm sitting in the dining room on the computer and quietly reflecting on the whole wacky situation that I find myself in. It's been 19 days since my condition was diagnosed. It's been 12 days since I was told how bad things actually are. It's three days before I have it verified by and independent third party.

Finding out was one of those moments when the whole world stops. It felt like it took forever to actually process what I was told before I really understood what the implications were. I feel like I'm on a runaway train. It doesn't have any brakes and just a few short miles up the track, the bridge is out. There's no way to stop it and no way to jump off. What do you do when faced with a situation like this? This isn't covered in the safety manual. Me?? I'm heading back to the dining car, pouring myself a stiff drink and raising a glass to my family and friends.

The easy thing to do would be to get angry, be upset and shut myself off and spend the rest of my time having a pity party. I'd like to think that is not how I've dealt with trials and tribulations up until now, so there is no reason to start.

The best spin that I can put on it is that I have been given a rare gift that most people don't get. I've been given an opportunity to say the things that I've always wanted to say to the people that I've always wanted to say them to. I have a chance to see the good in humanity. The outpouring of support for me and more importantly, my family has been absolutely overwhelming. There is no way to thank all of the people who have stepped up to help out and lend their support. The way all of the communities in my life have converged in a united front of charity doesn't really make a whole lot of sense to me. It's not just close friends and family either. It's Miranda's classmates, the school community, rock bands, co-workers, neighbors, and complete strangers. Of course it is friends and family too. What is amazing is the way that people who are on the periphery of our lives pull together and come a little closer which makes the world a little smaller. Sometimes you don't appreciate the good in others around you until something catastrophic occurs.

Life is full of uncertainty and that's what makes the journey fun. You never know what's coming around the bend next. So, I'm telling the engineer to throw some more coal on the fire. Let's throw open the window, lean your head out and feel the wind in your face. Take a deep breath and enjoy it. You're on one hell of a fun ride.