Of appreciating all I have and much needed reminders

Once again, the universe has a magical way of slapping you back to reality. I’ve been lamenting my medical bills, how they keep piling up on each other, and the effective pay cut I’ll take in January because my insurance costs per paycheck are going up 40%. The minute I feel like I’m getting ahead, I get slapped with another charge for an office visit, pills, what have you.

A coworker of mine apparently had a seizure sometime last week. Word was, he would be out until sometime in December. He was in the office today which surprised people. He said it was just for today to get some things in order. Turns out, he has inoperable brain cancer. He’ll be out at least 6 months, though it’s unlikely he’ll come back at all. The only option is chemo. He’s 32. For those keeping score at home, I’m 28. I felt like a complete and total ass for complaining about my bills and my condition. Thanks for the perspective, universe. Things can *always* be worse. Mine is easily manageable with medication and common sense in taking care of my body. It sucks to not be able to drive until March or feeling like I’m stuck under a pile of bills. At least I’m not going to have to go through months of chemo only to be told I’ll (probably) still die before I’m 40. Statistically, I’ll live a long and relatively normal life with my condition only being a minor inconvenience. Hell, I’ve already gone through over 5 years of it totally untreated with no idea epilepsy was the root cause. It’s not like I got a phone call telling me I have cancer.

I watched my dad go through cancer treatments 5 years ago. It was a horrible experience to watch, I can’t imagine being the one going through it. Through most of it, we laughed. As I like to say, I laugh to keep from crying. When my dad hit 5 years cancer free, he commented how well I took the whole ordeal. I never cried in front of him. I jumped in with both feet on the jokes. As is frequently the case, I kept it together in front of him and then had my meltdown later. He’s healthy. The rest of my family and friends are healthy. All four of my grandparents are alive when most people my age have lost at least one. We don’t get along that great, but they’re still family. Cosmically, my condition isn’t that bad. Annoying, yes, but not a death sentence. I won’t be physically incapable of getting out of bed, constantly feeling sick, and wondering not if, but when, the disease will kill me. I’ve got the world by the tail feathers and sometimes it takes hearing about a worse situation to remind me of that. On that note…

70 days seizure free. 110 more to go.



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