Sorry I have not been posting recently. I got a little illness, which required a little medicine, which is causing a great deal of side-effects, which is making me spend a whole lot of time on the toilet. Is that TMI? Too bad. Go read a Little Golden Book if you want happy stories, but this is antibiotic related diarrhea I’m talking about here, and there is nothing happy about that. I still have about a week of these fuckers left, and I am not looking forward to them. And no, yogurt isn’t helping.
That’s not really why I haven’t been posting, though. I could totally write between bathroom trips, and to be honest, I have been. Just not here.
Not in my book either, at least, not at first.
You see, every time I would try to write my in my blog, I would spit out some huge personal piece that belongs in my book. And every time I would try to write my book, I was attempting to give a historical account, plus the feelings I had both then and now in reflection. So I’d start at the beginning. Diagnosis day. Oh, wait, that isn’t really the beginning because I noticed the peteichea months prior. Oh wait, that isn’t really the beginning because I felt kinda lousy for months even before that. Oh wait, that isn’t the beginning because an investigation into abnormal blood counts occurred seven years earlier and while cancer was not found then, it certainly was a strange coincidence.
Anyway, how could I start at the beginning, if I don’t even really know what the beginning was, even though all those events were likely necessary to the story of it all, but certainly not all the life in-between, even though the life in-between matters too? I’m not trying to write my biography, just tell the story of how my life got flipped, turned upside-down, and how despite everything, I manage to be okay with being alive most days. I wanted to include the reality of living through it all.
Today, I set out to write about my fiance and the story surrounding how we got together. In doing so, I find myself in a few thousand word story of everything going on that led to us being together, but I hadn’t even gotten to the part where we meet. I suddenly realized that a chronological historical telling of my story is exactly the opposite of the reality I want to tell. In fact, that isn’t how I remember it at all. So yes, even though the medical records show what happened what day, I am not writing medical records. I am writing my reality.
My reality is a series of memories. Those memories are each individual stories that together, make up a few larger stories. They are difficult to recall in detail most of the time, until triggered by another memory. Between all the physical and mental effects on my memory, telling a story in chronological order would be completely disingenuous to the reality of how I experience it now. It would also take a shit ton of reconstruction, which fucking bores me.
So I have decided to just write. I will tell the stories in the order I want to tell them. I will backtrack when necessary, include bits of information to help with the story’s context (as one would do for people who weren’t there when telling a story face-to-face), and put out a book that accurately reflects the way I look back on everything that has gotten me to this point. I will tell you how I really felt and how I really feel about it all now. I will tell you about my hopes for the future, for me, for others affected by cancer, and for everyone.
My fiance helped me figure this out by doing more than being the person I wanted to write about today. She also helped me by suggesting I write a book of fictional short stories a couple of days ago after showing her one I had written. It started a conversation that forced me to realize that I prefer to write short stories, for a number of reasons. It wasn’t until trying to write about her today that I realized this rather epic story of nonfiction I want to tell, can be told in short stories too. As I said, it is the most genuine way I can think to tell it anyway.
Today, I was going to tell the rather fascinating (in my occasionally humble opinion) story of how my fiance and I met, and all the craziness that occurred in getting us to the point of happy contentment (at least with each other) where we are today. However, the story is way too long to write about here, although, it would make a great story in the book. So instead I will just say that I am so lucky to have met such a wonderful woman. Not just because she helped me jump over a huge hurdle in my writing, but for everything she does and everything she is, that makes her my everything.