Today is my 29th birthday.

In the past I have never really been the kind of the person who really cared much about his birthday. I guess I always figured that everyone has one, so what’s so special about it. Of course my perspective has changed a little this year. But even now I’m still not as outwardly excited and fired up for celebration as one might be. Still, I certainly have a new respect and appreciation for it that I’ve never had before =)

I’ve been anticipating and thinking about this day a lot actually. From the beginning even:

I was diagnosed on a Monday, and Christine went back to work on a Thursday. We’d spent two days together just sitting in shock from the news and after two full days decided that since there was nothing to be done and nothing to be gained by sitting and feeling sorry for ourselves, she should go back to work and that we should try to resume some form of normalcy in our lives.

I got up that morning and started going through the motions. For me that’s breakfast while watching The Today Show. I hadn’t been up very long when this commercial came on:

I lost my shit.

I mean, I broke. I was immediately turned into a crying, sobbing mess. I thought I was done with crying and that after a few days I was starting to be okay, but I was wrong. I somehow resisted the urge to call Christine, but I didn’t have to resist very long as she called me shortly there after. Through tears I asked her to come home. I believe my exact words were: “I’m not ready to be alone.”

She came home and I think we spent the rest of the day just as we had spent the previous days, sitting together in disbelief. But sitting together, none the less.

I think about that moment, when I was blindsided by that commercial, quite often. In fact I’ve thought about it any time there has been mention of my birthday since. For me it was one of the earliest moments when I began to realize what a game changer this was going to be, and what an effect it was going to have on the rest of my life. Suddenly something as simple as a birthday now meantsomething. It wasn’t just a given. It’s not a guarantee.

There I was, on the couch crying my eyes out because of what was happening to me, but also crying because I was looking forward to having another birthday. I was looking forward to turning 29, and to getting older, because for the first time in my life I was realizing that the next birthday is not a sure thing.

I allowed myself to imagine a party of some kind (an idea I’d never been too keen on in the past) where I was surrounded by friends and family, none of whom we had even told at that point (it would still be another week and half before we started telling the world). I imagined myself thanking everyone for their support and for sticking by us during the ordeal that we had just been through. And most importantly, for the first time I imagined myself healthy. At the time we were told to expect 3-4 months of treatment, so my birthday was originally to time out well for a big celebration that I had beat cancer.

Of course, things changed a little bit. I’m not quite on the other side of this yet like I thought at the time I would be, but I’m still happier than I think I ever have been that it’s my birthday. I’ve never been one to embrace it with celebration before, so I think I’ll just take this chance to say, for the first time: “Happy Birthday to Me!”

I deserve it.

Here’s to a world with more birthdays!