Two Years and Counting

Today is two years since the heart surgery that saved my life. I literally had about two weeks to go before a valve would have failed and I would’ve ceased to have heart function. Pretty scary to think about how things might have been. I can't say that brush with death made me rethink my life, to make every minute count, to do the things I always wanted to do. I’m fortunate that I’ve always done what I wanted to do without regard to the disapproving looks from my parents, or the disappointed comments from friends. Fuck 'em, I always thought, and just went ahead and did what I wanted. For me, every minute has always counted. We only get one shot at this life and I wanted to be able to look back and say I always spent each minute the way I wanted, doing what I wanted with MY life.

Of course, in these two years I also found out I had cancer. Oh, well. Shit happens. I’m coping with that the same way I always coped with everything else: do what I want (to the extent my energy -- and kidneys -- hold out) and keep moving forward. Sure, my time on this planet might have been shortened, but I can honestly say there is nothing I ever wanted to do and didn't do. Except maybe visit Tokyo. That's still on the list of things I want to do. Hopefully, that’ll happen. If not, well, I've done all the other 99.75% of things I wanted in my life. I think that's pretty good.

I've made these last two years count just like I made all the previous years count, just like I hope to make the next year or two or three or however many count. Don't wait to do the things you want. Do them now because you might not have an extra two years to do them in.