Sometimes you can cruise through life. Some bumps here and there, but otherwise, smooth sailing. You begin to take things for granted. You go to bed each night knowing that tomorrow is another day. You go through your day, bumping into friends, talking to co-workers, doing what you do. And then it happens. You encounter a situation that you previously believed only affected others.

That something happened to me. It started innocently enough. It was a routine doctor’s appointment to have my hearing checked. Something was off. “Maybe it wasn’t my hearing” she said. She sends me to an ENT doctor. The ENT doctor finds something that worries her. Next stop, a CT scan and then the request to “come back in.”

My wife and I arrived at the appointed time that next day. Our anxiety was ramping up all the while I was busy thinking of other less worrisome possibilities. There is a knock on the office door. The doctor enters the room with her team of three other members. As the door closes behind the last doctor, we sit fearing what we are about to hear. “You have cancer.” And there it was. That diagnosis I had imagined other people hearing, wondering how that must have felt, are now mine to feel. I have cancer.

Most importantly, I have received a reprieve. My cancer is highly treatable with a ninety – ninety-five percent cure rate. If you are going to contract cancer, this is the one to choose. I will undergo the full series of radiation and chemo treatments. This will last 33 days. If and when all goes well, my cancer will be gone.

I am writing about this because putting it in the open is cathartic. It makes me accept it and it keeps me focused on what lies ahead. I am also hoping that by laying this out, those of you closest to me will worry less. There are three categories of cancer. There is cancer that offers no hope and requires incredible courage to deal with. There is a second category that I call “the hopeful” cancer. This category offers hope that if you can make it through treatment you have a better chance to beat it. And then there is my kind. I am describing it as “the common cold” cancer. Though it is not “nothing,” it is clearly less scary. There is more than hope, there is a high probability. I am thankful and humbled that my treatment journey will be far easier than so many others facing theirs.

Getting cancer has made me feel mortal. but the healing will make me feel stronger, more determined. It seems clique to remind people that we need to be more conscious of every day we get. To find the positive in it. To be grateful for every opportunity to make another person’s day just a little brighter. For every chance we get to be better than we were. When you see me, and I hope we get the chance, a hug is all I need. Let me be a reminder for you to value your life as much as that hug will value mine.