On Death. And Life. For Five Years.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

That was the verdict last night. I didn’t hear the words, but that’s what was said.

Four weeks ago, a discovery. Then a blood test; it gave good news. Then a biopsy; it gave last night’s decree: lymphoma.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

Working out, eating right, loving family, serving community, supporting church, worshiping God – aren’t those the right things at the right times?

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

Recent fatigue? Not especially. Sudden weight loss? No. Training to run a half-marathon in two months? Yes.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

Next: an oncologist. The best is hard to see soon. There are others, not the best, who are easier to see soon.

Soon is good. No, soon is vital. Learning about options is good. No, learning is vital. Making decisions about treatment is good. No, making decisions is vital. Starting treatment is – you guessed it, vital. And must be soon.

Breathing, breathing, breathing, breathing is good.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

Yes, of course I have questions. Start with what, exactly, preferably in understandable language, you are talking about. Then go on to when what happened.

The grand prize question is why, but I know you can’t answer that. Yes, I wish you could too. It’s okay, though; don’t feel bad. I’ll ask God, or whatever, and get no answer.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

Yes there are more: Any chance of false positives? Could I have someone else’s results? I didn’t think so, but had to ask.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

A challenge to control. A situation to solve. An issue to manage.

That’s how they say it, and they amuse me. They mean well, and I love them for it. But an issue is constipation, a challenge is hair loss, a situation is foot fungus; this is not those.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

I buried Dad too young; it burnt my heart. My kids will bury me too young; it burns my heart.

The pressures. The decisions. The unspoken words that should have been. The spoken words that should not. More decisions. More pressure. I know what they face: it burns my heart.

How could I do this to them?

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

Demonstrate faith amidst suffering, you say? Practice what I preach? Witness to the values I claim? Courage. Empathy. Hope. Endurance.

Not just words that tickle the ear, but qualities that build the heart.

Maybe. Maybe I can.

Five years. At least 91% live that long.

Yes, I believe there is no failure except in no longer trying.

Yes, I believe struggle forces us down unwanted paths, through valleys of despair, and gives us the chance to grow in new ways.

Yes, I believe.

After all, it is five years. I will fully live, at least that long.

Nathan Day Wilson