Best wishes

So far, very few people know what I’m going through.  With this blog, I might have revealed my battle with cancer to the world, but I have told hardly anyone about it, and the link is not obvious.  The blog hasn’t gone viral.  Readership is probably limited to those few close friends going back years and decades with whom I have shared the news and the blog’s URL.  They deserve to know and to have a chance to follow my journey – as closely as they choose.

At work, only my boss and HR know.  As my prolonged absence due to ill health is already causing concern and probably also speculation, I will let my colleagues know during group meeting next week.  I want to reassure them that I will try to be the same person at work that I’ve always been, doing my job with the same enthusiasm (though possibly not quite as much energy) as before.  I don’t want any special treatment.  For this, I go to the hospital.

Going public with tragic news means turning personal drama into everyone’s story. What the audience does with it is up to them.  I have no expectations.  The Guardian had an opinion piece today about the questionable merits of sadfishing, a term I hadn’t encountered before that is defined as “the posting of an emotional message on social media in an apparent attempt to attract sympathy or hook an audience”.  This is not what this is about.  The point of this blog is not to solicit pity or write a gripping narrative that makes you thirst for the next post.  Neither is it to elevate my ego with the number of page views or comments under a post.  The topic is too serious for this.

This blog has two main objectives.  The first, as with everything I write, is to keep a memory of things too precious to forget.  I try to be honest and unfiltered, with medical facts as well as my reactions, physical and emotional.  Writing the first ten posts or so gave me something to do after surgery.  It might be similarly useful during upcoming chemotherapeutic infusions.  The second is to share news and developments with friends without having to write the same email a dozen times.

This second point is behind today’s post.  From my friends, I got a dozen email replies to the initial news, each warmer and more heartfelt than the one before.  How do I respond to these emails?  What do I say to a dozen offers of support, to promised visits and the most unexpected advice?

Thank you, my friends!  As you’re thinking of me, I’m thinking of you.