On Getting Ols -- 51

I received an email the other day from my Aunt Doris. She informed me that my cousin, Bobby, was diagnosed with cancer. Bobby and I have not been very close over the years. Usually we met at weddings and lately at funerals.

At the first opportunity I called him. He was at dinner and could not talk very long, but long enough to tell me they—the ominous ‘they’—discovered cancer on his lung. He indicated the cancer was of the large cell type, which is slow growing.

A week later I called him. He was in good spirits. His doctor scheduled him for more tests to determine if the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes or brain. We chatted for quite awhile reminiscing about the old days. We vacationed together. I was the best man at his wedding and was the godfather to his first child. The time passed and I promised to call him about his condition.

Two weeks ago we talked and he was really up. The tests indicated that the cancer had not spread. The course of action was to remove a portion of the lung. He promised to call me after he received information about the upcoming surgery. Bobby was very upbeat and positive.

Two days ago I received a call from Bob. After analyzing the MRI’s, the CAT Scan, and X-Rays, the doctor determined that it was necessary to remove one lung. He was devastated. However, always the optimist he said maybe after they open him up things might appear to be less dire.

Where was today’s candy I wondered? After mulling over our conversations the memories of the past were wonderful. I also looked to his strength and optimism under trying circumstances. After all I was only approaching old age. Surely I can over come this blip in the road. Always—some candy exists.

Ciao