Reflections On The Year That Was 2024

2024 is almost over, and thank god it is. To say that this year was rough would be an understatement of epic proportions. The year 2024 brought many things along with it, but most notably, it brought fear, misery, pain, suffering, and death. But what has this year taught as it progresses to 2025?

Let’s start by looking at the first gong. That one was a doozy.

The first gong sounded at my birthday. We all had one this year; some of you may not have enjoyed yours. For my birthday this past February, I was the unfortunate recipient of a cancer diagnosis. Not just any diagnosis, but one that would prove particularly scary.

When the diagnostic tests were completed, I had stage IV prostate cancer and it spread throughout my body. At least it missed my brain. I suppose that was a blessing.

Over the following months, I learned much about cancer. They say knowledge is power, knowing is half the battle, and a few other things. I was about to enter into an existential fight. I needed to learn everything I could.

I learned several things along the way.

Even stage IV with an extensive metastatic spread isn’t necessarily a death sentence.

Don’t accept one version of the truth without hunting for another. One doctor's opinion might be the truth, to them. But another doctor might have a different truth to tell.

The American “Big Pharma” system is a real and present problem for the lives of our people while we help subsidize the companies getting rich off of our misery. One prescription alone retails for $15,000.00 and I’d be in a lot rougher shape without the doctor who helped me find a program to get the medicine.

No, life will not be the same. Survival comes at a cost well beyond the financial. Chemotherapy and pharmaceutical therapies for such cancer have long-lasting effects that will age you ten years in the first year.

That was only the first gong. As the year ends, I wonder if my feet will ever feel the same. Some other things don’t work well anymore, and that’s probably permanent. But, I’m not dead, and I don’t feel like I’m dying.

Gong number two was a doozy. This one kicked me in the balls and made me cough. What was it?

2024: The Year of When it Rains it Pours

Things tend to come like a flood. While they say god won’t give you more than you can handle, I question how far they’ve been pushed. How bad of a night have the people saying this ever truly had?

After having to take a trip to the local emergency room, with someone far too intoxicated to be cooperative, respectful, or decent, I finally made it home at about 2:30 in the morning. I laid my head down on my pillow and my phone went off.

Dear god, I thought, what fresh hell is this? Going through chemotherapy is rough. I would have thought most people around me could behave a little better. But apparently, I’ll have to catch up on sleep when I’m dead. That brings me to the second challenge in as many hours.

A young guy in his mid-thirties, a close friend of the family and of my son and his wife, died. All the kids would say, in hysterical form, was “Jessie’s Dead.” I couldn’t get an ounce of clarity. What’s a guy to do? I think it was after seven when I finally got to sleep that day.

What did it teach me?

• Sometimes, when it rains, it does pour
• Pushing forward is the only way to survive the worst days of your life
• And, I’m stronger than I thought.

That wasn’t to be the last bad day. Not by far. I soon came to feel like this entire year was doomed. And for the most part, it was.

At the beginning of all this, I had a very special friend. Remember the part about being diagnosed with cancer? Well, that will cause some existential questions to come up. What can you count on as far as the future? What do you want to put others through, particularly as you get sicker?

Before long, I started to notice that my friend wasn’t around. When someone calls you their boyfriend while you’re being treated for cancer, there are small things you might expect. Like them coming to check on you once in a while.

After a while, the subject came up. Less than a week later she asked if I had any feelings about her going on a date with someone. To make it worse, she acted like she felt bad; like she was abandoning me in the middle of the worst year of my life. I had to convince her to do what would make her happy. That meant moving onto the next fellow, who she already had lined up. But, good to my word, I promised not to treat her any differently, or to stop joking around with her. Until I did, and three of her cronies got on her phone and started messaging me like this was tenth grade.

I didn’t know, was her response. Nope, modern-day cell phones, especially I Phones, are password-protected.

Women, you can’t live with them…and I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

In October there was a brief reprieve. With everything going on in my immediate circle and my aforementioned cancer treatments, I had reached the end of the cycle of chemo. The labs were all good. The scans indicated there was nothing left for them to be concerned about. I just had to look forward to a once-a-month lab test and scans around my Birthday.

In early November or late October, there was another small blessing. Well, it wasn’t so small. Anyone who’s ever had a family member struggle with a serious chemical dependency issue, like alcohol or narcotics, knows that when the person gets free of the thing that’s ruining their lives it is a reason to be thankful. Despite what doctors had told me at the beginning of the year, my son decided to give up drinking. I can’t tell the world in words that accurately describe how proud I am of him, but I am dammed proud of the strength that took!

Along came December, and I felt better than I had all year long. Finally, after a year of hell, that saw my health diagnosis become scary, a death that hit close to home, and my son’s marriage fall apart, I was sure I would catch a break.

NOPE!

It had been six weeks, since my last infusion. And already, my labs were going in the wrong direction. It’s not what you want to see when you’ve got the kind of condition that one of the best facilities in the country only gives you two years.

“What the hell? Round two I guess,” I told myself. But wait, there’s even more fun on the horizon.

A week later I would learn what the beginning of 2025 has in store for me. I’ve never been through this one, but I’m sure I’ll get familiar with it. My position with the company I work for is being eliminated. So are five others in the State of Illinois.

So, does god stop throwing me curveballs? This year has more than tested me.

NOPE!

I developed what I thought was an eye infection. I wish. Cataracts, at 52. What in the ever-living hell? So, now I have to hope that my current benefits last long enough to get to the surgery. I’ll meet the doctor in January and hope that he can find an opening as soon as possible.

After the way 2024 has gone, I’m anxiously waiting to tell 2024 goodbye and welcome in a New Year. What did I learn, overall?

• If there’s a center spot where unmanageable amounts of grief and despair go to torture dammed souls, I’m probably living at ground zero.
• If there’s a god, he’s a vicious and evil prankster.
• And I’m apparently too stubborn to die.

There are only a few days left of this miserable year and we welcome in a new chance for a better year. May you all be blessed enough that health, wellness, and happiness finds you in 2025.