4 years ago, in the summer of 2010, we were at Bethany Beach, and everyone was having a great time. Our family and some friends were building sand castles, going in and out of the water, and just relaxing in general—everyone except anxious old me. I had hundreds of unread emails and dozens of ideas for blog posts I didn’t have time to write, and I was surrounded by too much sand and not enough coffee. I tried to pretend I was having a good time, but people could see I was out of my comfort zone, and worse, that I didn’t want to be there.
It was only on the drive back home that I had the epiphany. It was only on the drive back that I realized what I had been missing out on. It was only on the drive back that I realized I had been experiencing the biggest tragedy of human existence: I was having the time of my life, and I didn’t even know it.
After a year of health struggles, last week I got an official diagnosis of Neurosarcoidosis and pulmonary sarcoidosis, and started treatment (high doses of Prednisone) yesterday. I won’t go into the details, you can read about them if you want, but I will say that it’s been the hardest year of my life.
I’m incredibly thankful for those close to me, online and off. But specifically, my beloved Jenna.
My lovely, lovely wife has continually supported me through this in ways I can’t verbally express, in part by sending me posts like this. Reading stories like Oren’s have helped me keep my situation in clear perspective. Things can always be worse, and when they’re worse, you can still have the time of your life.