A Time to Pause . . .

​Recently a friend of mine announced in a facebook post that he has been diagnosed with Stage 4 prostate cancer.  My friend is ten years younger than I am.  He didn’t actually announce on facebook that he has prostate cancer that information came via another friend who was sent an e-mail with a tad bit more detail.  It doesn’t matter, Stage 4 cancer is stage 4 cancer.
My friend has decided to try chemo therapy but his doctor has been very clear that the disease may be slowed down but not stopped and there is no discussion of remission.  My friend is a private person and I found it ironic that he chose facebook as his way to share his condition with the world.  It is clear from his post that he is deeply in the anger stage.  He doesn’t want to be contacted by anyone; he doesn’t want help of any kind.  At most he wants people to send him jokes to help lighten the load just a bit.  For now he plans to continue working half time, if his body can tolerate it.
Of course I have deep sadness after the initial shock passes.  Yet, I’ve spent several days reflecting on my relationship with my friend.  We became acquainted in civic theater first when he volunteered as the music director for one show and then when the theater group presented his original musical.  I worked with him to re-write his original draft of the script.  He composed the music and then the lyrics to all the songs and then tried to wrap the script around the songs.  I suppose that would be a musicians approach.  The result was an awkward script with uncertain conflict and no definite resolution.  I worked with him for several months to melt together the music and the script.  He was appreciative, he offered me a portion of any revenue he would receive for having the play produced professionally.  I also received recognition in the show program.  I also worked as the producer for the show.
I learned a great deal from him about the creative process and how artist vary in their approach to their work.   Artists are very accepting of each other’s creative process, there is a unique shared respect.  I also had him and his daughter on my radio show – Conversations with Wisconsin Artist.  Knowing him has both changed and enriched my life.
Yet, I ask myself how does this sort of thing happen?  For years I have had an annual prostate exam and while I didn’t ask I assumed my friend has had the same.  How do you discover that you have Stage 4 cancer?  Weren’t there some symptoms that would have sent alarm signals?  I know, those questions don’t matter any longer but the questions still linger.
I sent him my first joke in an e-mail and will continue sending him a joke every week.  I hope that when the time comes he seeks hospice care, it is best for both family and him.  I have been moved by sharing the creative process with him and that is the life well lived.