Please stop asking me how I’m doing.

You know that automatic greeting everyone says when they see someone? You know: “Hey! How ya doin’?!” Yeah, stop that. I don’t know how to respond. I’ve been playing with a few different responses lately. My favorites so far are “Tumour-laden” and “Like a donkey kicked me in the crotch, how about you?”

It’s very odd how people respond to you when they discover that you have cancer. So far the best random occurance involving cancer has been in a Harvey’s at lunchtime. I was talking with a buddy and the topic inevitably ended up on my having cancer. The man next to me, who was deciding what topping to put on his burger turned to me and said “Excuse me, do you have cancer?” to which I replied “Yes, yes I do.” He paused for about two seconds before responding with “My Dad has cancer” and then returning right back to his burger.

I think if anything it made him feel better than it did me.

I am having trouble telling friends, though. There are people I consider more dear to me than most of my blood relatives (you know who you are) and I’ve barely talked to them. One I even told via e-mail, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ll make it up to all of you by living another 40 years, amassing a huge wealth, and moving you all to my small island nation.

I’ve missed one person, though, but maybe that’s something I have to accept.

Mood: DONKEY!