Gray Area

Absolutes are easy:

You do have cancer. We're treating it. You'll get better.

You don't have cancer. Move on with your life. 

You are a world class moron for watching the Lions every weekend. 

You get the gist. 

Uncertainty is tough:

You might still have cancer. 

You could be done with treatment forever. 

There is a chance you'll have to continue with more chemotherapy. 

The very pleasant Stem Cell Transplant you just went through may have been successful. 

We can't tell you right now when you'll be able to put this all behind you. 

Will everyone call you out for being unfaithful if you give up on the Lions?

I can't speak for everyone, but I find I have a bit of a tougher time when things are "up in the air." 

I realize that possibly not having cancer is absolutely better than definitely having cancer. That isn't what I'm saying. I'm not an idiot (all the time). 

Certainty just provides a bit of clarity. Helps me focus.

Post PET scans that showed definite cancerous growth, it was clear to me what lay ahead. I'd receive treatment and get better. I was sick--I needed help. I could prepare mentally for what was coming. 

Black and white. 

Now, 40 some odd days into this transplant process, there is much to be determined. 

I may still have cancer, the transplant may not have been effective, there may be more chemo, radiation is a possibility if things go south.

Or:

I could be completely done. Cancer free. Movin' on. 

Gray and gray. 

You can imagine how the huge gap in possibilities for me in the coming months might lead to some anxiety. 

Uncertainty is difficult.

Especially considering how much I've been improving lately. I feel good, generally. My energy level is rising. My bloodwork looks good. I've been cleared for more activity. 

Took a weekend trip up north with my girlfriend, showed her Sleeping Bear and Arcadia. Saw the sights. Appreciated all the small moments. Never been happier in a relationship. 

I feel the support of everyone who cares about me every day. The Spartans are 8-0. My employer treats me better than any that I know of. 

I'm doing very well. 

Still, every trip in front of a mirror is a reminder:

I'm still recovering from something major, and more may lie ahead. 

Also a reminder that I have a giant, misshapen head. 

Also a reminder that I look like a chubby infant without my beard. 

Hi I'm Marcus

Mostly, though, that I've got a ways to go. 

I'll be ready for whatever comes. 

Never too high, never too low.