I'm not sure quite where this came from, but I was driving home tonight and it struck me that you are all so admirable and courageous, and you ought to hear it from someone. You guys are dealing with so much -- pain and losses and fear and thoughts of mortality we all like to put out of our minds until something like a PCa diagnosis makes it impossible. And yet here you all are, taking care of each other and helping the new guys and researching your options so that you get a lot more sunsets, but also so that your wives and sons and work buddies and Gigis continue to have the blessing of you in their lives.
I admire the hell out of people who turn cancer into a excuse for a GFMPH outing, people who paint "the price of admission: one small 'walnut'" on the back of their roadtripping Beasts, people who write books to help others walking a few steps behind, people who turn what they've gone through into wood relief art that captures beauty they know is fleeting, wives who learn so much so quickly that they could hold their own at a pharmaceutical conference, people who lurk and learn to figure out how to face this challenge, people who use some (ok, a lot) of their now-more-precious time and energy to moderate boards, knowing full well we're going to make it hard on them every so often. You are my silver lining.
So when you have one of those rotten days, remember that this awful thing that happened to you also gave you the chance to show what you're made of. Know that there must be a lot of people who are totally proud and in awe of you. After all, if some oddball you've never met from KY feels the need to write you an ode, you must be pretty fantastic!
Katie
Very proud to be part of our (admittedly terribly-themed) club