I started writing this blog over eight years ago. Not entirely sure why. Best I can come up with is - it is very therapeutic - and something was stirring inside me that I had to get out - and had no real interest in talking about. Still holds true. Kind of funny instead of a few conversations I chose to put it out there for the world to see. I now have the audacity to think I have something to share. And at least three of you seem to agree.

I do not think I hate much of anything or anyone - but I hate cancer and maybe lima beans. It is personal. My wife, Mela beat colorectal cancer and has been cancer free about 13 years, my sister’s husband has cancer, and my cousin is on her third round of breast cancer. First time around 30 years, then 35 and now in her early sixties. And me with my Uveal Melanoma.

We are all fighting the same war but the battle is our own. Every story is different. Probably too much time on my hands. (that could be a song) I started to reflect on this - this past Thursday. It was my infusion day in San Francisco but actually a very good day.

I had time to walk down to Johnny’s Donuts before my appointment. The vanilla glazed old fashioned hit the spot. During my time going to SF, my cancer concierge, Alya, (she is very smart and extraordinarily kind and has a much better title) has gotten engaged, gotten married and is now expecting. So excited for her. Dr. Kim said that I am handling the single drug very well and is good for a longer term prognosis. Anyone else think of the famous Jim Carrey line - So you are saying I have a chance. But sadly, others are clearly having a tough time with the single drug which brings me to today’s premise - I will get there.

And best of all the Woodhouse Fish Co on Fillmore spent the month of April celebrating their 17th anniversary with $17 lobster rolls. My mouth was watering. About half a block away I saw about 15 people milling about outside - waiting for a table. My heart sunk but remained hopeful. They have a bar/lunch counter. I walked in and there like a shining beacon on a hill was an empty corner seat. I got it. So thankful.

I ordered my warm lobster roll and Arnold Palmer. Absolutely delectable. I finished it and was wishing I had ordered a side of fries. Still hungry. One look at the dessert menu - easy decision. Strawberry Shortcake. Now time to drive home.

Same war different battle. Thursday, April 23 as I made my way back to my room for the immunotherapy infusion I passed a room that had an elderly gentleman seemingly sound asleep in almost a fetal position with his IV drip while his wife (I assume) sat in a chair with an almost stoic look. I wanted to cry. I don’t think there has been more than two bell ringers during my visits. Everyone cheers and claps with abandon all while knowing we may never be the bell ringer.

The battle. Every IV of chemotherapy, every searing round of radiation, every tube of blood drawn, the endless minutes in an MRI, the nausea, vomiting despite nothing to eat, the severe and chronic diarrhea, the sleepless nights, severe and sudden weight loss, the rashes, the blindness, the fevers, chills so bad you shake like you have exorcised, the never ending drives to and from doctor appointments, every drip of immunotherapy, the surgeries. It does not end. Yet we all get up and hold our head high as we continue to fight. I am grateful to be alongside this courageous group.

I have been blessed with supportive friends and family, great insurance and great medical care. I can not imagine going through this journey without any of that. But yet the battle is our own.

That could be a song is Supertramp. Can’t get it out of your heads now - can you. The Jim Carrey line is from Dumb and Dumber. I know what you are thinking - how perfect for you Nick.

Stay Strong, Be Kind, Be Humble and God Bless!