Wait 'til this year.

The year 2008 was one big kick in the cubes after another. I’m more than happy to have that year in my rear view mirror. Let’s review. I assure you, this will be as self-indulgent I get until the next buffet table comes along.
January – Laid off by Indymac Bank. Nostradamus saw that one coming; it was a bad time for mortgage banking. It was a great job, though. Money, work conditions, co-workers who could be co-worked with. Had great conversations with people on all levels of the job about 24, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and The Bronx is Burning. Was hard to let that one go.
February – Unemployment wringer. There’s no other way to put it. It’s a crappy process with a lot of paperwork, walking, waiting and hoping you’re earning positive judgments from other people. Just blows.
March – Weeks of pavement-pounding in winter cold made me aware of the labored breathing. It doesn’t seem as bad when you can actually see your breath coming out in front of you, that’s too be expected. The periodic stopping to catch your breath and dread of going up stairs shouldn’t be happening for another 30 years, though. Something is wrong.
This was originally a longer passage, but I don’t want to lose track of the punch-list format I have going, so I’ll shorten the tangent to: diagnosed with congestive heart failure.
In late March, one of my many job interviews led to a second interview scheduled from my hospital bed. This led to a job offer, which I accepted like a starving castaway receiving a Nilla wafer.
April – A week on the job and I get called by doctor after a follow up. We would like you to come in for a pet-scan. No problem, I get clearance from work since procedures on these are designed to inconvenience.
A few days later, the call comes that a team of experts have discovered something on my pet scan. Money well spent. Let’s take the results to another doctor. This doctor concurs with the others that there is indeed something on the PET scan.
A procedure to remove lymph nodes from under my arm for closer investigation of the something was offered to me in exchange for a day off of work and 25 percocets. I agreed.
My MD suggests I take the results to another doctor he knows who specializes in something. I take my results to her and she says the results will be sent to the Something Research Foundation which recently received a federal grant to delve into the cause, treatment and eventually cure of something.
This continued through most of the summer, although the Sword of Something dangled over us the whole time.
Melly worried about me, about losing me, and about how to manage without me. I worried about her.
Still, it was a summer where I saw Robbie play T-ball, join Cub Scouting, ride a horse for the first time, fly in an airplane to visit family in Pennsylvania, swim in the pool, play with a ton of new neighborhood friends and have a ball in summer camp.
In August, something was pronounced Hodgkin’s disease. Following a flurry of medical opinions, Wikipedia surfing and quiet terror, it was decided I couldn’t go through traditional chemotherapy for this because of the recent heart issue. Rituxin, it was decided would treat the Hodgkin’s without damaging the heart.
September - While the five half-day sessions of weekly treatments spent in overstuffed chairs watching Heat, Titus and Bourne Ultimatum in my mom’s portable DVD player were a nice break, I couldn’t shake thinking of why I was there. Most of the other folks in the please spare my life waiting room with me were all much older and had recently had their hair removed against their will. I had no symptoms to speak of save drowsiness after the sessions.
In October, I started on antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds when it was pointed out to me that I was less than fun to be around. I was by now using a seven-day-a-week pill sorter like a grandparent. Insurance company is wondering where the hell I came from.
October and November were pretty ok and we needed the break from the drama. Robbie got settled into first grade and grew to love the blue and gold of his Cub Scout uniform.
Just inside of December, Melly was called into a human resources office and told she was being downsized. Times are hard, but she believes it is personal. Adding injury to insult.
She started 2009 by landing on her feet, going straight into a tax preparer job with H&R Block.
I started by getting up on January 2, mercifully devoid of any symptoms, and going to work.
Robbie slept in the same day. He’s six. And he knows he has two parents who will do whatever it takes to protect him and keep him fed and clothed.
So far, so good.