I was at the grocery store this morning - yet another example of my return to normalcy as well as a relaxing and gratifying outing (I know, sounds crazy to the non-grocery shopping lovers among you readers). There is something oddly soothing and routine and predictable about the adventure - especially considering that I make the list in the order of how the items are shelved in the store, along my zig/zig, up/down every aisle path (that's fodder for another posting).
Anyway, if you're still with me . . . I'm at the grocery store in this story when all of a sudden a man comes barreling around the corner, looks up from his shopping list, and out from under the brim of his weathered Yankees baseball cap comes a hearty, "He's alive" (clearly aimed at me). The twinkle in his eyes and the nature of his salutation affirmed that he knew me and my circumstance. The glazed look and surprise on my face clearly indicated that I was stunned by this greeting and not exactly sure who he was (sorry mystery man, I think it was Nasser Tamimi, but I wasn't 100% sure - and yes, that's his real name). Then as quickly as he appeared he disappeared - dashing off in search of the rutabagas not crossed off of his shopping list.
He's alive! It did not shock or upset or offend me, but I was struck by the pronouncement because I hadn't really imagined any other outcomes - than me being alive. I'm positive he was just being friendly and funny, but I suspect that deep within the recesses of some folks minds, and based on the history of cancer's scourge-rous track record - you never know. Statistically I'm positioned on the fortunate side of the "survival" equation. And with the intervention of things like my stem cell transplant, the capacity of my maintenance therapy, and the advancements in research that are looming on the horizon - I have every reason to be objectively optimistic. So yes, I AM alive - and never really considered any other possibility. And still don't !
