Come Here Often?
For the New Eyes
Welcome! After yesterday’s on-air and social media “announcement,” there are a bunch of new eyes on this Substack. It’s great to have you here. If you signed up for a free subscription, you’ll get significantly more in this post than usual. Normally, I’ll write a teaser paragraph or two before erecting a paywall and taking care of my paid subscribers who have decided my words are worth money. Today, however, with so many of you probably curious about this cancer journey, I’ll share a lot more of it for free. You can decide for yourself if my words and story are worth seven bucks a month. If not, no harm done…I appreciate your interest.
Readers who have been here since day one, and there are quite a few, have endured the entire journey along with me. From the initial post in 2021, in which I was certain I had lymphoma and was going to die, to the weeks preceding yesterday’s on-air announcement, the people who paid for subscriptions have witnessed the entire scope of my bout (now bouts) with this awful fucking disease that kills so many beloved friends and family members.
Remember when we were kids, and cancer was a rare thing? You’d hear someone has cancer, and it would be earth-shattering. It was not as commonplace to learn that your friend in his twenties was fighting colon cancer. These days, it’s out of fucking control. I don’t know if it’s diet, what we are doing to the environment, genetic mutations, or all of the above…but cancer is everywhere. Young, old, male, female, black, white, other, everyone is getting it. I hate it.
Not just for myself and my fellow survivors, who have experienced a doctor putting on a gravely concerned face and delivering the news. For all the families affected. All the kids who have to grow up without a mom or dad. All the moms and dads who had to bury their children before they reached driving age. This indiscriminate disease continues to wreak havoc on mankind, and I’m battling it again.
Most people who get diagnosed probably have a hard time telling people around them. I’m no different. Sending the “I’ve got cancer” text sucks for everyone. Running into an old friend and having them ask, “How are you?” or “How’s your health?” puts you in a weird position. You have a split second to evaluate how much that person means to you and whether or not you want to make things sad and awkward for the next 10-15 minutes.
When you’re a “public figure” (barf barf fucking barf did I just type that)) who fosters an intimate relationship with people who listen to and read your words, it can be a challenge to decide what to share and when/how to share it. That’s the world in which I’ve been living for the past 5-6 months. The radio show has been an absolute refuge for me, one in which I’m able to gleefully pour myself into my work and temporarily forget that there are once again evil cells in my body that are trying their hardest to end this life of mine.
Sure, every once in a while, a caller will ask about my health. I try to speak up about asking questions to cancer survivors that could have potentially negative or catastrophic answers. Some people mean well, and they just want to know. Others are malignant assholes who want to remind me that cancer took up space in my body, ignorant of the fact that it’s there again. Either way, having to address and answer these callers as they disrupt my tranquility and happiness doesn’t always work well for me. People listening must think I’m a total asshole for pushing back on someone asking how my health is, but they don’t know what I’m going through. That said, I know I could have handled it with more patience and compassion.
After having an incredible conversation with an older gentleman I got connected with via a cancer mentorship a few weeks back, a light went off in the dark space where my brain should be. He told me how much it helped to talk and listen to me. How it brought him so much comfort and happiness to share his struggles and triumphs and hear mine. It was at that point that I decided to go public with my diagnosis.
John Senning has been my sounding board for a long time now. He could tell that I was leaning toward sharing my situation on-air. I had to wait until the time was right, and yesterday seemed like the day. The fates aligned, with both my favorite sports teams being dumped from the playoffs the day prior. So, I hammered out an email to myself with an outline and bullet points, and opened the microphone at 5 and bummed out a lot more people than I usually do.
Guess what? The world didn’t end. I imagine I’ll likely get some calls on it today, but probably not throughout the entire show. I plan on assembling and executing a “normal” show without a focus on my medical situation. Back to life, back to reality.
I’ll say adios to you free subscribers here. You just got a shit ton more written content than you’ll usually get, so enjoy that. Paywall going up in 3…2…1…