Today marks eighteen years in remission. On this date in 1990, I'd just arrived at the University of Washington Medical center, settling into the hospital room that would be my home for the next eight weeks of chemotherapy, complications, and recovery (and the hospital itself, my home off and on until October of 1990).
I've been trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to find the words to go with this milestone. Perhaps I'll just quote from the cards I received from the girls, because they continue to be one of the best reasons why we celebrate on 03/03:
E: Dear Dad, I'm so happy that you are alive and with us today! Happy Anniversary! It was probably hard being in the hospital all that time. You're very special to me and I love you very much. I really do believe that your experience will become a best selling novel someday.
J: Dear Dad, good job on surviving and not dieing. It must have been weird that you were bald.
"It must have been weird that you were bald"
Thats classic.
Congrats my friend. Live long and blog more.
Oh goodness, that comment from your youngest must have made you laugh and cry. How incredibly precious. Congrats - I'm very happy for you. :)
RKB,
Congratulations. I raise a beer in your direction. Glad to have you on the planet.
Thanks, Heidi. Glad to see you stopping by the joint! And, yes, it was pretty hilarious. Makes perfect sense to her that the baldness would be the main point of weirdness in the whole deal.
Thanks as well, Tim. I'll enjoy a beer later today and tilt it towards CA, where I assume it continues to be much more springlike than MN.