Lucky 13: Thirteen years ago today my life changed for the good

It had been a long day. Mississippians were voting on the State Flag– and somehow I was getting their angry phone calls. It was a hate-a-thon dripping with pissed-off anger.  People were mad. And I was their piñata.

Lucky me.

At 5:30 p.m., the phone rang once again. This time it was a friendlier voice — it was my doctor.  When he began to speak though, I could tell he wasn’t delivering good news.

“The mole we removed was malignant. You have cancer. I’m sorry.”

You have cancer. Those three words hung in the air like a stale fart. I thanked him (which seems like an odd thing to do considering he had just told me I had cancer) and then my world momentarily stopped.  I was 33-years old with a small child and I had malignant melanoma. Crud.

That was 13 years ago today.

Lucky 13 as I like to call it.  Lucky because my plastic surgeon’s eagle eye caught a strange looking mole out of the corner of his eye.

And I shudder to think of all I would a missed if the melanoma had been missed.  My two youngest sons, for example, never would have been born. I’m looking at them right now with tears in my eyes.

I would have missed so much professionally, too. I never would have known what it was like to be named a Pulitzer Finalist (that was cool). I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to successfully to transition into radio, books and speaking.  I’ve been honored by my high school, college and many different organizations because of my work. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.

My bucket list would have gone unfilled. Crossing the finish line of the Marine Corps Marathon was a magic lifetime achievement. I wouldn’t have ever raised $13,000 for cancer research. I would have never worked with Keith Warren to produce the Run from the Sun. Knowing we helped others avoid melanoma’s curse is so powerful.

Banjo and I would have never met. The old farty dog really touched my heart. Nope, no Pip in my life either.

I would have missed my wife getting prettier, my sons growing up and my beard turning whiter. Time would have stopped. Everything would have stopped.

I would have missed 4,745 sunrises, 4,745 sunsets and 4,745 days to make the world a little better place.

I’m not going to lie to you and say every day has been magical. I’ve struggled with anxiety at times — Cancer will scare the hell out of you.  I have suffered professional setbacks and tough personal moments. My sister lost her husband to ALS and I have watched people I love struggle with health issues. I’ve seen way to many friends die of the disease that I survived. Talk about survivor’s guilt. My beloved pets Banjo, Molly and Sam all died too soon. I have been fired from one job and made part-time at another. All were tough times.

But I’m still here. I have a few scars but all and all, I’m blessed. I have a better sense of what is important and a desire to ignore what isn’t. I appreciate sunrises over drama — I’ve learned what’s really important in life. Sure, I was knocked out of my comfort zone. Kissing your mortality will do that. I’ve been knocked down and gotten back up.

Thirteen lucky years ago, I was given a gift.  I was given the gift of time.

I’m grateful I’m on this side of the grass. And I got to see another sunrise this morning.