Dale and Cancer

In early January, my friend Dale was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. Stage 4 means you're on the adios track. I saw him in the hospital just before I left for Phoenix. Dale was in shock. (Or as much shock as possible while basted with morphine and Dilautin.) Suddenly all the mad scrambling for money seemed pointless. He only wanted more time with his wife and kids.

And he got it.

The doctors operated twice and removed a huge tumor from his colon. No chemo necessary. Off you go. But Dale did get a colostomy bag for the next seven months. (He told me you have to spray the inside with Pam so that poop doesn't clot the opening. There are other elements involved that don't need mentioning.)

All things considered, he thought the colostomy a fair trade. Cancer had picked up his life and tossed it off a bridge. As he reassembled the pieces, Dale found himself reordering everything: priorities, diet, attitude.

I pray his cancer doesn't return. (My cousin Mary Ann faces her third go-around with liver cancer in four years.)

But often there is hidden good in the most turbulent events.