When I first announced my diagnosis on Facebook, I wrote that I didn’t want people to see me as That Guy With Cancer. I was still Plain Old Lee. I didn’t want that disease to define me.
And that’s why I’ve only written two posts about it in the last four months. I didn’t want this to become That Cancer Blog.
But I’ve had so many people respond to my updates. So many people thanking me for my bravery and strength. Personally, I don’t feel particularly strong or brave, but it means a lot to me that so many of you see that in me.
What I am, of course, without dispute, is a writer. And from the beginning, I knew I’d have to use what voice I have to get through this. I knew that I’d have to use my experience to help others.
A few of you know that I’ve been working on a long form project. Trying to share my story in my way. I don’t quite know if the shape it’s taking now will be its ultimate form, but it has helped me deal with the mental and emotional issues that come with this whole cancer thing.
But while and until that comes to fruition, I think I’ll be writing a little more on the blog. I’ll still do my best to keep my original focus on the arts and pop culture, but be ready for a brief update here, a definition there, when I feel like I have something to contribute. When I feel like I can help.
I hope you’ll read these posts. I hope you like them. And most of all, if you know someone who might be going through the same experience, I hope you’ll share them. I want your friends, your family, your loved ones to know what you all have reminded me time and again: that we’re not alone.
Thank you.
Write your heart out! It will help on so many levels. I promise. And please, know that you never need to apologise or make excuses for being real.
Hugs,
M.