So I’ve got cancer.
Well, I’ve actually had cancer for nine months now. Ten months? I don’t know. Math was never my strong suit. You’d think I’d better remember when I first had surgery, but it’s baseball season. I’ve got more important things to keep track of.
Things didn’t get too serious until last month when, during a routine visit, my doctor said “so yeah, get ready for chemo. Your cancer is a little bitch.” I’m paraphrasing.
Thus began lots of chemotherapy. I’m four weeks in and luckily it’s one of those good cancers. Stage II Testicular Cancer is fairly curable, plus I get the bonus perk of talking about my junk with complete strangers. But I felt like I needed to say something, otherwise the jokes that are soon to follow on Twitter and Facebook might seem a little out of left field.
In the mean time, if you want to help out, say a few extra stupid jokes today in my name. Trust me, I can sense them.
Goob, I know that took a lot of courage to tell the world about your cancer. I've been praying for you ever since I read this last week. You have so many supporters and friends praying for you that I know God will answer all our prayers.
You make us laugh, fill our mailboxes with cool free stuff and I appreciate you and what you do for us.
Take care of yourself, don't worry about sending us stuff right now. Concentrate on getting well.
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