God Bless and Goodbye

A couple of months ago, I received a thick packet in the mailbox. Inside was a questionnaire, asking me to participate in a scientific study. "Oh?", I wondered curiously. Having had a closer look at the purpose of the study, I dutifully complied, filling out the forms to the best of my ability and promptly mailed back the results. The eagerness to complete this survey was quite personal. Here's the title of the survey:



Lymphoma. Cancer. This survey brought back a flood of memories, things that I scarely want to remember, but things that nevertheless gave me great insight into myself. After returning the questionnaire, I opened my filing drawer and pulled out a folder thick with dated reading materials. Here's a small sampling:



There were brochures, pamphlets, information guides, medication descriptions, fact sheets, phone directories, and yes, even scientific papers from the Journal of Clinical Oncology, something that I requested of my oncologist to provide for me. As an aside, I'm surprised by the rather low numbers in the sample size of these papers. One paper had a study size of 17 patients, and the other, 65 patients.

Amongst all that reading was, of course, that one single piece of paper that started it all. A blocky looking fax titled Surgical Pathology Report. You can see a snippet of the report below.



If you think I've focused the camera too close, well, those were really the only words that stood out when I first read the report. Lymphoma. Positive.

I kept my cool, mostly, until I got home and sat both of my boys on my lap. Neither of them at the time were yet of kindergarten age and they did not know why their father was crying. But that was the first and only time I shed tears for this. Life went on as before, save for occasional trips to the hospital and a couple of longer trips to Toronto for a second opinion. If one were given the chance to choose the type of cancer to get, mine would be it. My course of treatment was to not treat it at all. Wait it out. See if the body can fight it off. With my faith sustaining me and by the grace of God, I sit here today typing out this blog, cancer-free. One very important note: my decision to do nothing is peculiar to my form of cancer and not a general recommendation to other cancer patients.

Despite what I've written so far, this post isn't really about my cancer. It's just background information. To be a father and a husband, this is what is most important to me. Having been diagnosed with cancer didn't change this priority, but it did bring it into sharper focus. I know I need to take care of myself so I can take care of my family, so I can enjoy my time with them. But over the years, that focus slowly became blurry again as the emotional impact of that diagnosis slowly wore off. I consciously knew that I needed to take care of myself, but I also consciously committed myself to more and more projects that took time away from my family. That was the way it was until that questionnaire prompted me to re-evaluate how I was living my life. I was becoming more and more exhausted and it simply wasn't sustainable. I wasn't living up to what I promised myself years ago to take care of myself.

Having that clarity again is refreshing. What I thought I held dear I really didn't. This includes the online persona that I've cultivated for myself these past two and a half years. It includes my involvement with the successful Engineer Blogs. And yes, it even includes the Flying Flux. Once I came to this realization, it wasn't too hard to take the next step.

I am permanently leaving my blogging life behind and moving towards more meaningful things in the real world. I'll be making a similar announcement on Engineer Blogs later today. When politicians say they're stepping down to spend more time with their families, it usually means they're being forced out or were caught in some hanky panky or dirty money scandal. But in my case, I really am stepping down to spend more time with my family. I rather leave on a high note, on my own terms, than to let things slowly deteriorate into disrepair. And I do this with bittersweet feelings. After all, the Flying Flux has been my personal platform these past 2+ years to rant and rave on topics big and small. Where now can I publicly complain about the obtuseness of management, the paranoia of my colleagues, and the idiocy of my government?

But no matter the amount of fun I've had in maintaining the Flux and writing at Engineer Blogs, it pales in comparison to my real achievements in life, namely that I've managed to convince someone to bear my children (twice!) and that I've been able to keep these children alive for nearly a decade.

So thank you readers for your patronage. I shall miss you all. And on that note, it's time for me to take my plough and head back to the farm. God bless, and goodbye.