Jason Cotton's Blog
My Fight, My Life, My views on life
Time has flown by
This is my 200th post on my site. Compared to real bloggers and prolific writers this is not a big mile mark since it’s taken me what 5 years to make this?
Doesn’t really matter though, this has and is my story written by me, the good the bad the ugly and lately the sappy. It’s been a long road and looking back there has been many many times that no one thought I’d make it. Like my birthday a few years ago… Other tough times, losing both Bea and Deb my caretakers months apart.
And there are the good, Kings Dominion with my sister and her family, looking at the signs and realizing between my brother in law and I we had every warning not ride every ride we rode. Through it all I also found someone who loves me as much as I love her.
So thank you everyone who’s stuck with me for this epic ride, I couldn’t have done it without you all.
13 Months
Just a quick post for today. Today is my 13th month being cancer free. This is after fighting cancer for 91 months in a 10 year span.
Days like this
Days like this I’m happy that I have such good friends and people who love me. Today was a very shitty day in everything non medical. From waking up late to car problems then major issues at work. Some of it I could control but most of it I had no control over.
I started to go down the old road of anger and stress and let it get to me and effect me. Right when it was starting to get to me though my phone chirped. Right at the perfect time I was told to let it go and that I was better than all that was going on and not let it get to me. There was a lot more said but I won’t bore you with it. It was hard to do but I listened to her. Instead of getting mad I just let it go. Does itbstill bother me? Yes I’m only human but I’m not letting it rule me and ruin the rest of my life. Because she was right. All of that petty stuff just isn’t worth it. Her love and advice were. I chose to hold onto that and had a decent day.
Thanks Booboo
Life
Why did I get cancer? I dont know. All I do know is I got it and it was a son of a bitch. Why did I survive when so many haven’t? I can’t answer that question either.
Have I touched others with my fight? More than I ever thought.
Just last night I was reading comments and a bartender looked at my tablet and asked if I knew Jason. I responded that I’d hope so since I was Jason. She started to cry and came around the bar to hug me saying thank you for saving her brother. He’d been diagnosed with TC and was giving up when a nurse gave him a link to my chaotic ramblings I call a blog. He read my story and found in himself the reason to fight. Who would of thought?
This blog was and is a gift from Jeremy Simpson, as a birthday present and a place for me to vomit my story. He hosts it and helps me make it what it is. Its only my words without his gift and work this would be nothing.
***Edit by Jeremy*** Bullshit. You could have told your story anywhere and inspired people.
You can’t
We hear those two words way to often. I say you can. Now I’m not talking about rules and the law what I’m talking about are societies preconseptions of our individual capabilities.
Take a minute and think how many times you believed someone else’s words without trying. People have said I’m stronger than they are because of my illness to fight for my life and that I have something special. I always said no I’m nothing special, I’m no different than anyone else. I was wrong. What makes me so different? I don’t accept those two words from anyone until I try for myself. Maybe they are right, most of the time they aren’t.
Some of us are faced with more you can’ts than others. Whether its your sex or size or nationality. For me its been my size, I’ve always had to prove myself. Last kid picked for teams, the small kid, the nerd.
I tried to join the Army was told you can’t you won’t be able to survive boot camp. I joined the Marines. I made it through a harder and longer boot camp. Don’t accept you can’t. I could go on and on of the you can’t statements in my life. Sometimes they were right I failed and I failed miserably, but most of the time they were wrong.
Then the fated day of July 7th, 2000. I was told to go home and be comfortable that you can’t beat this. I was told that time and time again. I died many times, I’ve had a lot of treatments a lot of pain. It was worth it I’m alive. What makes me special or different from anyone else? I don’t beleive anyone when they tell me I can’t. I’m willing to fail and get hurt from trying. Sometimes that pain is worth it.
So next time someone says you can’t to you think about it. Do they know you? Do they know your heart? Your will and drive?
I don’t believe people when they tell me you can’t. That’s what makes me special.
Comments