I might be the new poster boy for cancer survivors.  I had it, it was discovered, it was cut out, and I'm cancer-free.  One would think that such a thing would result in a lot of joy, and while there is joy what I have discovered is that Cancer left me a parting gift.  I imagine cancer saying this just before the surgeon sliced it away:   "I couldn't kill you, not this time, but I'll make sure I screw with your head, here's some guilt for your enjoyment, until next time, have a nice life." 

The little bastard might be gone but I'm stuck with guilt?  What?  Why should I feel guilty?  Oh...and what the hell did it mean by "not this time" and "until next time"?  The little bastard is screwing with my head all right.  

My God! I lived.  But then, in creeps thoughts of others, others who did not have this level of success.  My friend David Harvey, dead of stomach cancer,  my mother in law Florence, dead of lymphoma, my uncle Gwin, dead of glioblastoma, my friend Julie, defeated cancer but through a long and painful process involving surgery, chemo, and radiation lasting months longer than my short experience.  So my joy is tempered by those ghosts.  

My experience might have been more like those but for one thing....the more, or less, accidental discovery of that little bastard tumor before it had a chance to infect any other parts of my body

What I do have that isn't tempered at all is gratitude.  I realize how lucky or blessed, or both, I have been with this experience and that makes my heart overflow with humbleness.