Interlude of gratitude.

I am no longer Gary Busey-high, but I do want to climb the walls for a sec with a rant of thanks that may make it seem like I am.

I have never felt so supported or looked after in my life as I have in the six months since I was diagnosed. My beautiful friends and neighbors and cousins and coworkers from so many corners: How did you learn to be such good keepers?

Your letters and food and well wishes and texts and visits and flowers and gifts and helping hands have stunned me—and have been the difference between this experience being bleak and being transcendent. I can’t get over it.

I hope I am given the chance in life to do for you in the million ways you have done for me. I am changed by it and feel quite literally buoyed by your generosity every day. Thank you thank you thank you thank you–I love you.

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