Elements and Intentions

This is a different sort of story for me. It's a story without an easily definable beginning. This is a story that won't have an ending until after, (hopefully long after,) the writing of it is finished. It's a memoir-ish story, which is an odd change of pace for someone who vastly prefers fiction and generally reserves the real life snippets for things like copyrights and writing contests.

In some ways, this story is admittedly tragic. In many ways, it's comedic. There's a protagonist and an antagonist, both residing in the same space. There's a stellar cast of supporting characters. There's conflict, danger, tests of endurance, stiff upper lips, laughing in the face of danger and moments of true despair, self-doubt and the occasional whisper of panic. It's a story that might be interesting or might seem to be self-serving and thus a dreadful bore. The elements are all here. I hope I do them justice.

If it's cathartic for the author, I'd prefer it to be equally worthy to the reader and not a complete waste of time. I would be happy indeed, if it gives comfort or help to those who need it the most. No, I'm not just referring to those of us who wear the "cranky chemo" hats. We have families, friends and acquaintances who certainly also have emotions invested. They are welcome to read this too. In fact, everyone is welcome.

All I ask is that you bear with me for a while. Ask questions if you like, but understand that I don't have all the answers. I just have cancer.

Don't worry. It's not contagious.

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