The MRI on Tuesday looked good. My brain looks clean.
A few days before that, on January 2nd, I finished the thing I’ve been desperately trying to finish in the event that I’ll soon be finished. I’m extraordinarily proud of it. There’s still a lot of work to be done, but I’m ready for it, excited about it, and so unbelievably thankful and aware of how lucky I am that I’ve managed to get this far.
And a few days before that, on December 28th, it was my birthday. I turned 38. To celebrate, I ran a marathon. For the first time in my life. In Newfoundland. In the snow. Mostly by myself, and mostly on the side of a highway. It was pretty awesome.
Turns out writing can cure cancer. And so can running.
More on all of this to come…