voluntary difficulty

I have been dealing with stage four colorectal cancer for about eighteen months now. I have held full-time jobs during that entire time and I did not take fmla, choosing instead to burn my pto on surgery and recovery and then return to work as soon as I could.

I continued to work out through chemotherapy so harsh the skin melted off my palms. I lost literal fingertips in one go (hand-foot syndrome, I wouldn't recommend googling it). I had to wear comically large padded gardening gloves because my hands hurt so badly. I distinctly remember one day where even getting a banana unpeeled almost made me cry. I could barely walk because the same thing happened to the bottom of my feet. I lived alone.

I was thinking recently about why I never really doubted I would get through all of this. not because I thought it would be easy but because it never occurred to me that I wouldn't.

let's quickly catalogue the last eighteen months:

six surgeries so far, the most recent on july 1. tumors removed from each lung. my entire sigmoid colon removed along with thirty-nine lymph nodes. seven three-week long rounds of chemotherapy. five weeks of chemotherapy combined with radiation. I drove myself to every appointment. there and back again. I wasn't legally allowed to do that with surgery but I did ask (turns out anesthesia and operating heavy machinery is frowned upon). I knew I could do it because I'd already spent years deliberately doing things that were difficult.

looking back this wasn't something I learned during cancer. I'd been practicing it for years without ever really thinking about it. I wrestled in college and wasn't very good at it but I loved the sport anyway. I started rock climbing just before turning forty and was terrible at that too. climbing eventually inspired me to move across the country to a city where I knew nobody. none of those things mattered because I excelled. in fact I'd probably tell you I didn't excel at all. but they mattered anyway because they taught me to be uncomfortable, to fail, and to keep showing up.

I don't think confidence comes from telling yourself you're capable. I think it comes from proving it to yourself over and over again.

it's true in health. it's true in business. it's probably true in every aspect of life if I think about it. both physical and mental challenges matter. take that scary job in a new city. lift the weight you're not sure you can lift. take the class that intimidates you. learn the thing that makes you uncomfortable.

you're going to fail. probably a lot.

but you're also going to succeed. and every time you do you'll quietly build evidence that you're capable of more than you thought. when something truly awful shows up you'll have years of proof to lean on instead of hope alone.

I'm a comparably old man now. I took care of my parents when they passed from cancer so I've seen this up close already. just a bit with my mom, my dad took care of her, but I was there to hold her hand when she took her last breath. I was the sole caretaker for my dad through most of his treatment. I miss him every day.

mom was gone before I was forty. dad was gone before I was forty-four. I was diagnosed with cancer at forty-eight. one gut punch after another.

but I'm not bitter. I'm not angry. I'm not looking for money, prayers, or help. I'm pretty grateful for the life I've been able to live and to be honest I feel very lucky.

I've had great doctors and healthcare. I've had the good fortune to work for people who cared more about me than deadlines. I've had friends willing to listen during the hardest times. I've had just enough help to get back on my feet and do the rest myself.

I'm fortunate. I'm grateful. I'm at peace with the life I've lived so far and hopeful to get to live a lot more of it.

If you've read this far I hope there's one thing you take away from this and it should have absolutely nothing to do with my story.

challenge yourself.

as much and in as many different ways as you can.

you don't get to choose whether life will eventually test you. you do get to choose whether you'll start preparing before it does.

the voluntary difficulties you choose become something you can draw from when life hands you challenges you never would have chosen.