I know tragedy, I am willing to bet anyone reading this does too. I am sure that you have ran through the ER to get to your parents, I am sure you know what its like to be surrounded by fates darkest plans.

All of us have those moments, even the people that we all see as pillars of good fortune. I can think of friends I have always seen as lucky as all hell. The kind of guys who crawl into a dumpster with me and come out clean asking for a bit of purell. Usually I am head to toe rancid ketchup and spoiled chow mein, but I love them for it.

When the alley shadows rise though, you get a skewered point of view. I left California where I was raised and had family. I went to Nevada and in the process got sick, the kind of sick that you do not get better from. At least not most people. I had found myself realing from a very rare case of lymphoma, an advanced case where they call in your family and say things like "We will try to buy him some time."

When I left I had a feeling that my life was filled with people I had helped, I felt drained, and used. Mainly that was from a particular person, but it's really not the point. When I got sick though, it felt like I had been fighting my whole life. I was staring down the biggest fight I had ever gotten my big mouth into. Metaphorically speaking I was that hero alone in the back alley surrounded by thugs and the brutal henchmen of what ever mastermind I had been struglin against my whole life.

What I learned though, is that real friends, and good family don't drain you. They dive into the alley as far as they can, some are at your back punching and tearing at the toadies. Others are at the edge of it doing what they can.

In the end you still have to fight though. You still have to swing your fists, and take your beatings, drink your poisons...in my case as it were. In the end you still have to face the fight, but the good blood in your family, and the friends who fight with you even the odds.


F$#@ Cancer, F#@$ tragedy.... I'll die one day and it will be fighting....