Friday afternoon…like any other afternoon, except the Doctor told Kari that she had leukemia.� Seriously, Leukemia.� “But I thought I just needed an iron shot?” she replied.

“No, the doctor replied.� You need a bone biopsy.”

“But…but…I’m not sick.”

“Yeah, that is a small problem… You see, the lab MAY have screwed up, and you’re perfectly healthy…or they’re correct and you’re going to die.”

“So which is it?”

“We’re not sure.� So get tested again.� You’ll get the results on Monday.”


“Yeah.� Have a great weekend.”

Nice. Very nice.� So that’s what we were left with on Friday afternoon.� Kari may (or may not) have leukemia.� One of the big three (brain, lung, blood cancer).� One of the ones where treatment isn’t overly successful (30%) and sometimes the cure is worse than the disease (you’re going to do WHAT to my bones?).

I’ll get it out of the way now: the lab called this morning and all results were PERFECT.� No cancer.

But imagine in your well-planned world, that someone drops the hand grenade called Cancer into your lap.� The future, an already mercurial and ever-moving target, suddenly becomes a black cloud — like someone slammed shut your novel half way through reading. Think of your conversations — the important ones� deal with the future.� All of them.� Sure, you talk about today, and the mundane details of existence that we all deal with…but the real topic is usual of the future.� Plans.� Vacations.� Visits.� Dreams.� Goals.

Ever moment becomes this bitter-sweet affair — trying to commit to memory the snuggles with Cordy.� Wondering when we get out the cancer playbook and begin to do the video diaries, the shaving of the hair, wondering how you explain the difficult disease (and treatment) to a 3 (almost) and 5-year old.

This story ended well.� When reading about cancer, you realize how many people are hit with this. We’ve all done it: this type of stuff doesn’t happen to me and my family. Except it does.

So…how was your weekend?