How am I doing? Well, I’m doing fine. Hell, today I suited up in full leathers and rode my sled around Atlanta on a perfect sunny, brisk, Fall afternoon.
Chemo was five days ago. I feel like shit for about three days after treatment but improve quickly beyond that. I see people out and about all the time. I look great (I’m told) — good color, energetic, positive. I must be doing really well. I believe that I am. I believe it with an intensity that may will it to be so.
I thought Rusty looked great; sounded great. He and I could beat this cancer.
Rusty died a few days ago — right around that damn 14 month statistic. Writing a bit about him now stirs up powerful emotions and contemplations in me.
GBM brought Rusty and I together at the end of 2011. I’m pretty sure it was his mom that found my blog and connected us because of our similarities (age, diagnosis, surgery, etc.). Rusty’s grand mal seizure was about a month after mine.
His mom was right. Connecting us was a good thing. It’s valuable for me to speak with anyone going through a similar journey. But to have another dude, my age to really, really talk to and compare notes is so much more. Rusty and I hit it off and became brothers.
Rusty didn’t live in Georgia, but I was able to meet him in person while he was visiting Atlanta. Rusty was a proud father. He was generous in every way. He gave a lot of love. And his salutation of preference was “cheers.”
Love to Rusty’s family from Tina and I.