The eyes expect to see it in some of the normal places, like the sink, the tub drain or brush, but when it shows up in places where it shouldn’t, the brain takes note that something is not as it should be.

On the nightstand, on the ground by the car, on the kitchen counter, in the laundry room; random, subtle reminders that something not so subtle lurks nearby.

It began suddenly, on mark with the doctor’s assessment, on Monday.

This cancer is an odd disease, something akin to the bully on the playground. At times he’s just a pesky twit, and others he is truly, severely abusive.

As I am talking now with other cancer survivors, I find that cancer can be just that; survivable. A killer, yes, but also a treatable disease. My good friend with MS told me yesterday that he would trade his ailment for cancer if he could. At least then he might have a chance to beat it. Even with the advancements in research, MS doesn’t get better or go away.

In every case, there is always the perspective of another that changes your own point of view.

Despite this next challenge, Karen has already been at work trying out stylish scarves and hats, and one friend reminded me that if anyone can pull it off and make it look cute, it would be my wife.

The ugliness of cancer can always be usurped by the beauty of the human spirit. Quoting Mumford & Sons, “…it might steal your innocence, but it will not steal your substance.”

On schedule