Okay, so let’s do this…

For a few months now, I’ve been providing updates on Martina and her battle with cancer.  I certainly plan to continue those updates, but… in the midst of all that…  I am going through my own journey.  It’s not really appropriate for me to share any of that in the context of providing information about Martina, but I did feel the need to capture some of my experience.  Why?  That’s a good question.  I don’t really have a burning desire to be understood (if you get me, fine… if not, I’m not losing sleep).  I’m doing a lot (I mean… a LOT) of processing and unpacking with my close support network.   So there’s no real need for me to seek that support here.  But maybe… just maybe… chronicling some of these observations, impressions, and experiences from this side of the fence could help someone… help them feel not so alone… or help them to begin to put some of the pieces into context… "Message in a bottle" and all that.

So… let’s do a little a housekeeping… a little foundation laying… a little expectations setting…

The Playing Field

My partner, my fiancé, my best friend, Martina Morley, was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer in July of this year.  This is considered a terminal diagnosis.  What does that mean?  It means the conventional wisdon is that – barring some tail-of-the-bell-curve, unforeseen, out-of-left-field development (aka a miracle) – the disease or complications from the disease will eventually take her life.  THAT being said... there are more than a handful of cases of people surviving and beating this bitch.  And that is the target that we're focused on.

So… as Jeffrey Jones quipped in the movie Amadeus, “Well, there it is”.

If you want more information on Martina’s journey, you can go here:

If you want more detail and/or the backstory, you can buy me a beer.

Where I’m Going… And Where I’m Not

My intention with this project is to provide perspectives and impressions from where I currently stand.  I won’t go too far into the messy painful emotional stuff.  Go watch something on the Hallmark Channel if you’re into that.  Nor do I plan on disgorging a tell-all with lots of lurid Kardashian-esque drama.  I have no one’s permission to do that and the thought of it makes me ill.

To be perfectly honest, being on this side of the story and looking out at you is… well… frankly a little weird.  My perspective has shifted in such a way that I’m seeing things a little differently.  It’s akin to a Twilight Zone episode where my reality (and all of you) seem to have been somewhat altered.  I want to try and convey at least a little of what that is like.

Finally, I do not intend this to be one long, dark, root canal of the soul.  That’s not who I am.  And even in these circumstances, I will not succumb to a morose deep-in-the-pit view of life.  I may even crack a joke or two.  You might find that shocking and inappropriate.  Tough.  If you hand me an E-ticket and climb into the car, do not whine and complain when Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride commences.

So… as the King of C commands… “Let the Cartoooons… BEGIN!!!”


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