I know, I know... it's been a little quiet around here. Some of you were starting to worry, so I apologize for the lapse in posts. But I subscribe to the "Quality over Quantity" school of blogging. [One of] The problem[s] with most forms of American media is that 90% of it is much ado about nothing. As Don Corleone once said, "They speak when they should listen." We're all guilty of that from time to time, but now and then it's best to just sit and reflect.
I've kept things light on this blog, with good reason. For one, there's been nothing to be heavy about! It's been all good news from the get-go (knock on wood), and I'm extremely thankful for that. And I'm well aware that no one wants to nor should have to hear about my "problems" - we all have plenty of our own. But the fact is, cancer- not my cancer, but the disease as a whole - is a weighty subject matter. A lot of people are not nearly as fortunate as I have been with side effects, let alone outcomes of treatment. Though I've got a long way to go, and I'm taking nothing for granted, I think it bears reflecting on what has made the treatment experience so positive to date.
You won't often catch me standing next to a river without a fly rod in my hand, but I like to do that when I get the chance. Once I get over the urge to make a cast, my head quiets down. I am reminded of why I come to these places; why many people come to these places. There's a lot of great fly fishing literature out there, and many famous authors over the years have tried to put to words the value of a life spent outdoors. I always come back to something I heard a fellow angler say in a fishing documentary about an exploratory trip to New Zealand:
“The second you step off that plane and get out to that river, all the stress, all the worries all the havoc that you had up to that point in time just melts away. And you forgot about everything, it’s gone. And eventually it hits you: this is what life is supposed to be. Because all that matters is right now, right here, and there’s no other place you’d rather be."
I can't overstate how much that mindset has helped me. When I'm fishing, I'm fishing. I'm not trying to solve my problems. In fact, more often than not I'm exacerbating them by making myself late or avoiding a to-do list (sorry Beck!). But while it may sound cliche, I believe more and more each day that it must be contributing in some way, however immeasurable, to the healing process. Having a buddy there with me is always a bonus.
The other contributor to my positive experience has been the people around me. Those who have dealt with a disease or other forms of adversity will relate, but until you have you will never know how much the support and encouragement from family, friends, and even strangers means. The notes, emails, texts, calls, gift cards, visits, dinners.... nothing goes unnoticed or under-appreciated! So I will continue fishing at every opportunity and thanking you for your kindness and support along the way, and know that everything will turn out for the best.
What have I been doing in the meantime? Well, last week I ran up to Michigan with a couple of buddies for a change of scenery. We had a ball and had many memorable moments along the way. If you haven't seen them take a look at the two photo essays I posted over on Dudewater. You may have to view "older posts" to see them all.
Friday night we attended the 6th annual "Man Meal" hosted by some friends of ours. Quite the meal it was, with everything from buffalo sliders to bluegill linguini on the menu. Based on the stomach ache I woke up with Saturday morning, it's possible that I over-indulged.
If my math is right my treatment this past Monday marked the half-way point for me! I'm feeling great and looking forward to pushing through the last three months of chemo. Thanks as always for your support and for taking the time to visit the blog!
Lampros! Glad to hear all is well on the home front. Also nice to see you haven't lost your gift of writing excellence. See you in September!
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