You good? A question I have been asked a few times this past week. By those who don’t know me well but can see by my bald head that life clearly has gone a tad awry for me but don’t know how or why. Quite like that question. Asks everything yet really expects nothing in return. Allows me to say yip I’m good. I don’t need to answer how I am because then I’d need to think about it and I don’t have the energy. And to be honest the relief in their eyes when I say I’m good is almost palpable and so beautiful I feel good. And so it goes. And in the greater scheme of right now I am good. Really good. The dust is settling on the mayhem of the horror that was. I officially have no evidence of disease, my hair appears to be sprouting, albeit not quite uniformly, but hey its hair. But in the lesser scheme of things I am tired, so very very tired and sore, so very very sore. The cancer meds are not easy to take. The upside is I get to nap most afternoons. The downside is I’m starting to plan my days around those naps. The upside is I’m gaining some clarity in those quiet moments. And there is no downside. Disease is a funny thing, it shocks you awake in a weird way. Facing your mortality opens your eyes in ways you don’t want to see. But also do. It makes you feel foolish for thinking things mattered when really they didn’t. It makes you so very grateful for seeing what matters, for knowing that humanity matters and for how blessed you are and encourages you to let things go with love but with relief. Somethings and some people are happily just not for you. I am me and I am living my truth. Because sincerely life is so very precious and honestly I have no more fucks left to give. For stupidity, narrow mindedness, bigotry, indifference, xenophobia, insincerity, fear and hatred. You go your way. I’m good with that. Really really good.