In March of this year, I was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer. As you can imagine, that made me think about dying and everything around it.
At first, my mind was focused mostly on the logistics of my death and what happens afterward. I was focused on the things I could change, which is an impulse that comes pretty natural to me.
So I spent time creating a will, setting up powers of attorney, making sure as much as possible would transfer directly to Sara without going through probate, and even putting together a playbook for what to do after I die—who to contact, where the money is, what bills and utilities we have, etc.
Lately, though, my mind has been gravitating more toward how I’m going to die.
There’s a long decline that I’ve already been in, and it’s only going to get gradually worse as/if the cancer continues to spread.
I’ll keep managing symptoms until, eventually, the symptoms take me.
Or I make it through this.
And if I do make it through, there will be a long road back on at least two fronts of getting my body back as well as returning to work in what is probably the most chaotic and perhaps existential period in our industry.
I’m not afraid of dying. But I’m definitely feeling more anxious about everything around it.
I haven’t given up. We’re still fighting. I’m actually getting infused with chemo as I write this, and Omanta is due to deliver a set of recommended therapies this week.
Things are not all sunshine, though.
And that’s okay.
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