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288 pages, Paperback
First published August 18, 2020
remember that time i first told you i had a terminal illness? that was awkward, huh? are you interested in hearing a little bit more about it? alright then.
just over six years ago at a walk-in clinic in ottawa i had a sketchy mole removed from my back which turned out to be melanoma. between 2010 & 2016 i’ve had five surgeries, tried conventional medication, an intensive two-year natural therapy, yoga, hypnotherapy, meditation, excessive masturbation, scientology, the list goes on. i visited a rogue health clinic in tijuana, mexico with my mom, bathed with a camping shower for a year and a half, sat through thousands of coffee enemas and drank more pressed carrot juices than any one human should consume in their lifetime.
one year ago yesterday, while i was playing with finn in the backyard i had a seizure, and we discovered a handful of inoperable brain tumours in my head. fifteen wholebrain radiotherapy treatments followed by two targeted stereotactic sessions and we’re happy to announce that i am now 100% tumour free.
just kidding.
still kind of fucked.
but hey, it’s ok.
really.
It was a strange spot to be in. He shared so much with me — sometimes, he confessed, more than he did with Candace and his parents — that our friendship had evolved into something I hadn’t expected or prepared for. I recorded most of our conversations and took notes every time we talked, whether I was scrawling them in a notebook or typing them in my laptop. I was now emotionally invested in Layton in the way I was with any of my close friends. Though he had seven years on me, I thought of him as like a younger brother I adored and felt protective of. Still, I never lost sight of the fact that I was also writing about him and his family. Sometimes, I wondered if he routinely forgot that, despite constant reminders that I was planning to document his story. Or maybe there was some kind of logic that governed all of this: these were intimate confessions now, but months or years down the road, after conflicts were resolved and feelings couldn’t be hurt, it was okay for me to publish them. He often told me I was the closest thing he had to a shrink, and while I was flattered that he trusted me so much, hearing this also made me squirm.
would you like to learn the secret to taking on life’s most brutal obstacles? here it is.
there is no secret. just keep moving, dummy. that’s it. physically, figuratively, whatever. my hundred year old grandfather taught me that by walking the circumference of the earth over the course of his lifetime. my father taught me that by running over thirty-seven thousand kilometres since he graduated from high school, and my son teaches me that by digging, sprinting and splashing his way through a seemingly infinite well of energy, and that kid’s only three years old.
run. walk. crawl. i don’t care. just keep moving forward and you’ll eventually get to where you need to go.
i promise.