Something Special This Way Comes

Good Morning Dear Friends:

Yesterday’s mail brought me a wallop.

I got my letter telling me I would no longer be an employee of the state when I had reached my 183 days of short-term disability (STD); that’s October 17^th BTW. I knew it was coming and I understand how large personnel systems work, but when I opened the mailbox and saw the letter I was still taken aback.

I know it is more likely than not, I will have a job with DOL when I get off the long-term disability (LTD), which is supposed to kick in when the STD goes away. But, as a young man I spent a lot of time in Missouri and developed a certain healthy skepticism or “show me” attitude to life. You may not know this, but I called the registrar at the University of Rhode Island every day for a week before graduation to ensure I was really done. Murphy is always hanging in the wings waiting to pounce.

Psychically though, it’s just one more thing in a six-month long line of poop that has knocked me to my heels. With the exception of the love shown to me by you, the people of DOL, the nurses on the 6^th floor, the ones at the Helen Graham Center, old friends, and most importantly my family, it really has been – as we’d say in the army – a shit sandwich. I won’t list all the ingredients of said sandwich, but suffice it to say it doesn’t taste very good.

I am not the man of faith many of you are, but yesterday when I got my letter, I asked God to make it all stop; for an hour or so it was all too much– the cancer, the chemo, the job, the hospital stays, the unending fatigue -- all of it. It’s what the letter symbolized that got me I guess. Even so, God’s probably not done with me yet so, so there’ll be more stones tossed on my path.

All hail Job and Sisyphus!

The good news of course is this is a temporary thing (although it doesn’t feel that way today) and I plan to be back at work by mid-January, playing rock and roll too loudly in my office on my IPOD music station, and forcing the senior staff to come over and shoosh me.

I only have two chemo sessions left and I have to keep my eye on that ball instead of all things I have to recover when those sessions are over. Recovery -- that’s the big idea post I am so reticent to write, but I’ll get to it.

But there is something stirring inside me catalyzed by all this – there are changes coming. To bastardize Ray Bradbury, “Something Special This Way Comes.” I don’t have any idea what this is yet. Heck I may write that missing book about the Battle of Cooch’s Bridge. Who knows?

I appreciate your patience reading this far and I could go on for pages, but I think I’ll just stop here, grab an Eggo Waffle or two, and consider the universe.

Peace to all,

Bill