50/50

On Sunday, I headed to the theaters and watched 50/50, the new movie about a young guy who is diagnosed with cancer. His chances of survival according to the statistics are -- you guessed it -- 50/50. Naturally, I had been eagerly anticipating this movie since the first time I watched its trailer a month or so ago. I consider myself a cancer connoisseur these days: launching my cancer-related non-profit, sharing war stories with other warriors, and nodding knowingly when a TV show or movie references the disease. For better or worse (I'd like to think "better"), cancer is a part of my life and will always be. So, yes, I was pumped to see this movie.

What made my movie watching experience truly moving wasn't so much about the film -- which I absolutely loved, by the way -- but the people with whom I watched the movie. My parents and Will came, of course. And so did Timmy. And Morgan.  And Michelle. They all came not just to watch the movie, but to watch it with me. Just the fact that they were there with me, watching the movie, filled my heart with joy.

I am blessed with a devoted, saintly group of people who love and support me every day and in every possible way. Sitting beside some of them while watching this film, and knowing that we were all tearfully (pretty sure we all cried) reflecting on this last year and my personal battle with cancer made the experience incredibly powerful. And incredibly empowering. My resolve to beat the living crap out of cancer was redoubled, which doesn't even seem possible. I would never, ever let this disease take me away from the people I love so much. 

Cancer is at its weakest when the cancer warrior is filled with love for life and the people in it. This means that the cancer in my body, dear readers, is pretty much toast.