Today

I'm tired. And sick. I have a cold and my head is heavy. Tomorrow night I'm supposed to get on a plane to Sacramento, ultimately heading up to Tahoe for the weekend. I hope I feel better. At the moment, I'm simply feeling sorry for myself. As I usually do when I'm sick.

In other news, Monday was the one-year anniversary of the date when I discovered I had a tumor growing in my chest. Sometimes I can't believe it's only been a year. It seems like it happened ages ago. And it's still hard to believe it happened at all.

People ask me how I'm feeling, and mostly I'd say back to normal. My energy levels are back, but I still haven't managed to get into a running routine that is anything like what I was doing B.C. (before cancer). I experience pain in my chest from time to time, which the doctor said was probably due to internal scarring. My hair is super-curly now, whereas before it was just a bit wavy.

I look at pictures of myself B.C. and there are times when I feel like I'm looking at pictures of a different person who bears just a passing resemblance to me. But I also feel like that when I look at pictures of myself now. It's hard to explain. As is so much about the cancer experience in general.

But as much as I still don't always know what to make of the whole thing, I do know this — I'm so glad and thankful that, a year later, I'm here.