What's in this for everyone else?

I've been wondering what the purpose of this story is. I mean, it's a long depressing story about my life. Why is this something others care about?

It's really not a Chicken Soup for the Soul kind of story for the cancer patients. It's not particularly uplifting or inspirational. Those going through chemo probably won't get way too cheery reading the story.

Those who know the patients won't get much out of the stories either. It does a great job of making them face the reality of what's happening and few people want to see that. And that, I realized, is what the story is about. Life will end. For many, far too soon. Don't let the time simply pass.

I suppose that the short advice I've spent the last however many pages of text trying to convey is this.

Patients & Survivors: Don't be afraid of what you are and have gone through. Live proudly with it and don't let it affect others.

Others: Be there. Remember that for as hard and strange as it is for you, THEY are the ones getting IVs or worse, puking, losing their hair, and actually facing the prospect death. I'll tell you now, if they die and you weren't there, you will feel far far worse.

I told. . .

So. . .last post I mentioned that I hadn't told any coworkers at the "new" job about my past. Well, it finally came time to tell someone. I kind of had to to explain a situation which I otherwise would have had to explain with some statement like "well, it just is".

So, the usual happened. He got all emotional and started repeatedly telling me he's sorry. Ok, I understand and accept his condolences, but really it's going on 6 years now. It's this reaction I try to avoid. People simply don't understand how to respond. This is now a fact of my life. I kind of wish they would react like they do when I tell them my address or phone number, since it's a fact just like those are. I know they can't. I understand it. I go through the same feelings in similar situations. But, I now work hard to make it a single, sincere, wish of condolences and then leave it. It's not easy to do, it never feels adequate, but being on this side I know it's what they need.

I wonder how much longer until I can tell people and not have them freak. How much longer until it doesn't color their view of me. How much longer until they can treat it like a fact of my life.

How much longer until I can really just do that. . .