When reports of Bin Laden's death came to me, I couldn't care less. I had just been diagnosed with lung cancer and it was progressing fast.
And I couldn't pretend to be surprised. I discovered smoking at the age of 19 because I was on a boring job and wanted to be rebellious. Twenty-four years later, after quitting off and on repeatedly I'd finally managed to do it for good. I was quite proud of myself.
Then came the swollen limp glands, the back pain, and the irony.
Always being one to attack problems aggressively, I began doing just that, consulting with Sloan-Kettering to begin treatment. But also being one to have little tolerance for pain, I played fast and lose with my medicine and wound up in the emergency room, strapped to a gurney and talking gibberish to everyone I love. It took days to convince hospital staff I hadn't tried to off myself - some still question me.
My friends believed me instantly. As one put it 'He's got a boyfriend half his age, why would he do that?'
And he's right, I wouldn't. I've got way too many stories to tell.
My first chemo is on Monday. My boyfriend Trel is beside me all the way. When I'm up to it, I'll give everyone else the low-dow on my progress.
But know this, I promise to fight this to the very end ....