Frequently people say to me, ”Jim, you are such a fighter.” Or, “Jim, you are so courageous.” And I take these statements to be the remarks of support and kindness that they are. I am grateful for them.

However, when I take a moment and dwell on these comments literally, I find that I don’t know what they mean. Take, for example, the idea that I am a fighter. This seems to me to be patently untrue. I can’t think of a single time in my life where, presented with some antagonistic obstacle, I didn’t cut and run instead of battling it out. The only reason I can even say that I am “battling cancer” is because I don’t have a choice. You can’t run away from the fact that it is becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.

And just how does a person “fight cancer” anyway? Its not like I can put on boxing gloves and kick its ass. All I do is show up to doctor’s appointments on time and take the little blue pill or the little red pill as the doctor dictates. In other words, I’m being a good little soldier. I’m simply following instructions. This does not strike me as a particularly fighty attitude. I’m just going along for the ride.

The same can be said for crediting me with courage. I’m not so sure. Courage, it seems to me, is what you muster when you have a choice between doing something difficult or not. It is courage that helps us take the difficult path. But here too, it seems misplaced, simply because, again, I have no choice in the matter. I am facing my possibly imminent mortality only because it will not get out of the way.

But, of course, it is a mistake to analyze these comments in this way. What people really mean when they say things like the above is, I don’t want you to die, I like you, and I hope you will get through this.

And here I have to say that it is the people who have a choice about facing cancer, in other words, all the people around me in my life, who really show their courage. It would be very easy for people to drift away from me while I go through this. People can distract themselves in a variety of ways so as not to have to confront a very scary topic. But I have found that, though some acquaintances have drifted away, other friends have moved to the front lines. They are the ones who have made the courageous decision to help me get through this, by opening their homes, helping me around the house, keeping me company, feeding me, and giving me rides.

These people all had a choice in how to respond to my illness. They are the ones who show real courage, and it is to them that I feel the humblest gratitude. Simply put, my friends kick ass.

But continue at Yellow Alert.

I must say that the team at Marin General scared the HELL out of me. But after meeting with my oncologist yesterday, I now understand that my condition is not as dire as the Marin General docs would have me believe.

Yes, things have gotten more serious for me, but that only means I have to get more serious!

There are two issues going on right now. Fluid build up around my lungs (which hurts like hell) and the additional cancer nodules found on my right lung after the CAT scan at Marin General Thursday night.

The fluid will be drained on Tuesday. Until then, I am supposed to just rough it. I found that I get some relief when soaking in a bath, so that means I might be a wrinkly prune by Tuesday.

After that, I’ll be starting some intensive drug treatments that will require lengthy hospital stays. The doc says I’m young and strong so he’s going to give me everything he’s got.

I’m ready.

Good morning blog readers.

I got some very bad news yesterday. It is news that I have every intention of blogging about. But first I need to make contact with members of my family.

I’ll be back soon.