Thank your local "evil doer"

As Bernie Madoff admitted in federal court to running a “ponzi scheme” and defrauding people out of billions of dollars, I was reminded of the quote by philosopher Bhagavad Gita, “Hell has three gates: lust, anger, and greed.” What I find fantastic about this situation is that there isn’t one single victim in this whole scandal. Madoff’s actions were abhorrent, but these “victims” absolutely knew better. He was out-promising everybody else on Wall Street, but he had the genius to market it as a limited opportunity and then sat back and watched as the people climbed over each other to throw their money at him. I’ve never met anybody whose parent’s didn’t tell them the most classic bit of advice, “if it’s too good to be true; it probably is,” but the idea of having a leg up on everybody else was just too good to pass up. Bernie Madoff was a good marketing program away from being the Nigerian government official that wants to share Nigeria’s millions of dollars in exchange for “borrowing” your checking account in the United States.

Adam Smith, the father of economics, described greed as an “invisible hand” that pushes us as a society towards prosperity. Utilizing the desire for greener grass, which exists in every human being, is the genius of capitalism. A market that limits individuals’ restrictions to pursuing their dreams is what has made America the centerpiece of the world economy. It is arguable that this country was founded by businessmen that wanted to avoid paying taxes to a king that wasn’t very friendly to business. The one problem with an economic system that is run by anybody with a dollar bill or credit card in their pocket is that the market is always in motion. Just as the pendulum always sways, economic prosperity can be here one day and gone the next. And as the pendulum starts to sway into negative territory, there are always going to be people there to try and snatch that last buck out of the air and there’s always going to be people willing to throw it out in the hopes of getting the new Mercedes or Prius before their next door neighbor.

On the TV show The West Wing, President Bartlett, played by Martin Sheen tells the story of a farmer with a hole in the road in front of his house. The hole was full of water and the farmer complained about how he had to spend all day with his tractor pulling cars out of the hole. In anticipation of paying a wrecker hundreds of dollars, they would always tip the farmer very well and thank him for his generosity. So finally somebody asked him, “If you’re pulling people out of this hole in the road all day, then do you farm your fields at night?” The farmer chuckled and said, “No, at night is when I fill the hole back up with water!” Bernie Madoff had the hole, the tractor, and even put a sign along the highway that read, “This shortcut will take 3 hours off your trip, GUARANTEED,” but the fact that people always choose to ignore the inevitability that there are no shortcuts in life means that there are very few "innocent" victims. In this world of communication and capitalism, shortcuts last only a few seconds before they become the way.

As you all know, I’ve lost a substantial amount of weight in the past 15 months, but I was almost heartbroken the other day when my doctor asked me if now would be a good time to discuss bariatric surgery. She said that sometimes no matter what you do, the weight just won’t come off and this bypasses all of that stress and struggle. It would be one thing if the surgery rewired your body to make you process food differently, but instead they just make your stomach so small that if you eat too much you’ll die. That’s essentially the same as surgically sewing your mouth shut, or better yet, telling a person that you’re going to shoot them in the head if they don’t drop 20 pounds!

I would be more than willing to take a few weeks off and live on a few hundred calories a day, just like post-op for bariatric surgery, if my doctor told me I needed to drop a bunch of weight in a hurry, but it’s easier with the surgery because there isn’t the hell of options and choices as there would be with a voluntary calorie restriction. Since when did limiting your options ever become a good thing?

I think that the scary theme behind all of this is that there are always going to be choices in life, whether we like it or not. You can pass all the laws you want to prevent the Bernie Madoffs of the world from unethically and illegally capitalizing on the greed of others, but there will still be those who choose to do bad deeds just as there are people that will always remember what Mr. Madoff did, but will gladly give their money to the next snake oil salesman that comes along. Why? Because we need that type of behavior for our country and financial system to prosper. We need multi-millionaires to want to be billionaires. We need the billionaires to try to buy up the world because that is what drives us to prosperity. The Bernie Mardoffs are just the cost of doing business. So, don’t pass more legislation or get the government more involved on Wall Street, just don’t give you money to these people! There are perfectly legal, safe, and legitimate places to invest on Wall Street where you won’t risk losing your 401k. “Don’t write checks that you can’t cash.” If you can’t afford to take the risk, by God don’t take it! Because if you lose it then it’s your ass that’s wasting away in some retirement facility in New Jersey while your friends are living out their glory years in Florida.

I heard D.L. Hughley say tonight that “this is the perfect example of what unregulated capitalism can do.” I was enraged by his comments, because I believe that capitalism is responsible for everything in his life, from the development of his iPhone to the existence of a demand, and the funds to pay for him to speak his opinions on the television. After I thought about it, I realized that he was absolutely correct! But, capitalism at its worst is better than alternative markets at their best. In many other countries the genuine manipulators, or villains, would be getting the proletariat to rise up against the bourgeoisie, not steal their money. In other countries, this pendulum swing would be the beginnings of a coup, but instead it happens to be the beginning of one of our finest hours. To top it all off, Mr. Madoff is going to spend the rest of his life in prison, and I assure you any hotel without room service (i.e. minimum security prison) will be prison for a man that lives in a 7 million dollar apartment, and we, as a society get one step closer to figuring out that perfect balance between individual greed and prosperity for all.

The man inside the television keeps trying to tell me of all the hard times that are ahead and we could have another Great Depression on our hands. They try to scare me with stories of “The Dust Bowl” and “Hoovervilles,” but they don’t mention what an incredible accomplishment it was to endure for a country as relatively young as ours. If you ever had a conversation about the Depression with somebody that lived in it, they’ll tell you it was hard, but they also talk about all of the amazing things they did to get by. It always seems that the word, Depression, was the most somber part of the entire conversation. After that, they end up talking about what they used to make their own clothes and the random things they would utilize to improvise a tool they couldn’t afford or to entertain themselves. Today, we look back on that generation of Americans and fondly call them, “The Greatest Generation.”

Those great Americans serve as the perfect testimonial to democracy, capitalism, and the human spirit that freely burns in each and every one of our hearts. History has given us all of the examples of how this sort of storm has been weathered and most importantly demonstrates that we actually can survive the storm!

After 9/11, President Bush went before a national audience and said that the most patriotic thing we can do as a nation is go out and shop. Everybody laughed and called him stupid, but 7 and half years later Congress and President Obama are putting together stimulus bills designed to spend trillions of your dollars. Essentially, it’s the country going out on a huge shopping spree. We as a nation will get through this time, just as they did 60 years ago, when we stop fearing this certainty and make do with the situation that we’re in. I strongly believe that we would be a lot closer to pushing unemployment down and the Dow Jones back up by turning off CNN and going down to the corner and buying a pack of gum. Just 25 cents could be your part in turning us back towards prosperity. You can hardly buy anything with a quarter anymore, but if every American put just one quarter into our economy, it would be a quick 75 billion dollars without any tax increases or expansion of our national debt. We as a country, and a as a society, got ourselves into this cyclical quagmire and we can just as easily get ourselves out of it and it might be just as simple as two dimes and a nickel.

They say that the night is darkest just before dawn and walking away from the sun or hiding your head in the sand isn’t going to get you any closer to the light. The sun will shine again, if you keep moving towards the light. And sure, there are Bernie Madoff’s, Enrons, and Worldcoms in this direction, but I promise you they are the minority and not the majority. I also know that there would be more wolves lurking about if we walked away from the light and remained in darkness. We will make it through this, because that’s what we do in this country. This country was founded on the backs of hard working, society oriented folks that never dreamed their hard work would prosper into this magnificent light that shines around the world as a beacon of hope, freedom, and prosperity. Newsman Charles Kuralt once wrote, “The everyday kindness of the back roads more than makes up for the acts of greed in the headlines.” The people on Wall Street might have put us in this economic slump, but our financial prosperity is always going to be made on Main Street, and that’s why the only money near my mattress is stray change that fell out of my pocket……

God, the Devil, "UU's," and the Conservation of Energy

Since two weeks of age, my heart, soul, and destiny belonged to the lord. I was born in early December and I was in attendance at our Presbyterian Christmas Eve event two weeks later. I was baptized into the church before I could speak, or even walk for that matter, and absolutely bought into the belief that we live only to service the lord; hook, line and sinker. As I grew older and older, and my family condition of mental illness continued to manifest, I was confident that the lord was going to protect me so I went on dreaming of my storybook future, because I believed in the lord. I didn’t need therapy because I was religious. I didn’t need antidepressants because I had the lord.

So, as my life continued to spiral downward, I started with the bargaining. “Lord, I am really getting to a bad place. If you’ll just straighten out my life, then I promise that I’ll live my life in service of your glorious name. I’ll make the a difference in this world, do good works, and help as many people as I have time to on this planet. Just please let me pass this drug test!”

My dad used M&M’s to teach me math as a child. I didn’t know they tasted delicious until I started pre-school. I started presenting science fair projects in fifth grade and started studying calculus my junior year in high school. Logic drives my life so much so that I can only see the world in black and white; never grey. Mathematics, science, and logic has been the biggest driving force in my life, so how did I get to the point where I’m bargaining with somebody, that I have no proof exists, and giving him responsibility for MY life?

After I topped out at 507 pounds and pretty deep into my “fake it ‘til I make it” phase, I still believed that god had this master plan for me and he was going to reward me for my hard efforts. As soon as I lost enough weight, the lord was going to compensate me for fixing my life by bringing me “my partner” in life and making my life easier. I actually believed that God favored skinny people because they were taking better care of their “temple” and it just seemed like skinnier people had easier lives. I mean they were the ones getting laid at bars with women they just met while I was beery belly up to the bar slamming beers trying to make the pain subside.

After about six months of hard work, my storybook life was coming together. I had an awesome girlfriend, a family, and the weight was just dropping off. The lord had come through for me until we hit a bit of a snag. There was a situation that I thought I could handle, we were out socially, I started drinking, made a jack ass of myself, and then ran up a $150 bar bill because I thought this “storybook life” was just an evil glimpse at a life I was never going to have. I ended up trying to walk from Greenwood to Speedway (suburbs of Indianapolis, approx. 15 miles apart) in a pouring down thunderstorm. I was piss drunk walking down the middle of the road, trying to describe to the cab company where I was, while the rain was falling so heavily that I couldn’t even open my eyes to see where I was going or to watch for oncoming traffic.

After an hour or so, I had finally had enough. In a Capra-esque sort of overly dramatic move I looked up to the heavens and cried out to the lord. “Kill me! Fucking kill me! Stop fucking with me you vindictive son of a bitch and just end this! Strike me down and end this misery! Are you enjoying yourself you fucking sadist?” This rant continued at the top of my lungs in between long sobs and choking fits from shouting in the rain. When I had no more energy to shout, I decided to take a break under a bank drive-thru overhang and smoke a cigarette. In my alcohol-induced haze, I spent a while attempting to light a rain soaked cigarette as something came over me. It isn’t god that dictates my life; that is strictly my responsibility. I’ve invested all of my efforts and energy into someone or something that nobody can prove exists. God doesn’t have to suffer the consequences of my actions; I do. They say that’s where the effort of faith comes in, but it’s my belief that faith is for suckers and for people that live off of others. It was time to question everything. It really doesn’t matter who or what is in control of this universe because I need to concentrate on my own destiny and what I can do to affect it.

So, with this newly discovered self reliance, I found the Unitarian Universalist church. It was so surreal to go to a doctrine-less proceeding, where you were free to practice your own system of beliefs. Instead of the Apostle’s Creed, it was a devotion to religious freedom and the journey to find our own spiritual origins. I even joined a very interesting group called Build Your Own Theology where we explore our individual religious histories and plot our spiritual futures. With this branch of religion, I’m free to explore all of the “nooks and crannies” of life without having anybody tell me what I’m seeing or what I’m supposed to be seeing.

One thing that has frustrated me about these open minded, spiritually flexible church-goers is their strong belief in the idea of community. There seems to be this huge emphasis on the idea that an investment in community with fix all of societies woes and we are beholden to our community more than we’re supposed to be accountable to ourselves. This has left me somewhat dumbfounded because these people that criticize Christians for their blind faith and obedience to this all powerful, all knowing “God,” place their independence, free thought, money, future, hopes, and dreams into this collective they believe can overcome our shortcomings, as a society, to solve all of life problems; without having the individual power to effect the ideas or decisions of the collective. That’s sounds a lot like a religion.

It seems in religions throughout the world, the major principles are arranged as God first, the church second, and the individual third. Take the Roman Catholic Church for example. It starts at the very top with God, the Holy Ghost, as the most important position within the faith. Just below God, is the pontiff, followed by the Catholic Church as an organization. Then the organization is broken down by archbishops, cardinals, priests, elected officials within the local church, and finally the individual. God, the Pope, and the church, as an organization, are the only sacred institutions, with no mention of the individual. If there was even the least bit of concern for the members of the church, then maybe the Catholic Church wouldn’t be opposed to practices such as birth control in third world countries that can’t afford to feed all of “God’s miracles.”

Generally speaking, it is my experience that all protestant organizations, as well as religious hierarchies throughout the world, are organized in this sort of “top down” fashion with considerations for God and the church, before the individual. With regards to the Unitarian experience, it really surprised me at how much it felt like every other church I’ve attended; from the hierarchy of the organization to the schedule of events during the service. The principles and vocabulary are slightly different, but the experience seems the same, minus the guilt at the end of the sermon. So, it really feels like every other church, just without God at the pinnacle. If God is absent at the focal point, then it would seem like the entire organization would flow through the fundamental ideal of the community, or the Unitarian Universalist church. It’s God first, the church second, and the individual third, but without God at the top of the pecking order.

Now don’t interpret this as any sort of dig at the Unitarians. I am so thankful that I’m actually in a position to freely question and explore my spirituality without any sort of bias, pressure, or specific doctrine. It isn’t my intention to undercut the Unitarians or any other sect or religion, but to demonstrate just how close we all are as a people to understanding the answer to our most fundamental question of how we ended up here and what is our purpose in existence? The verbiage, practices, and stories might differ from faith to faith and church to church, but the behavior is consistent throughout mankind.

So what is a spiritually confused, at times mentally and emotionally unstable, obese man to do?

If you have read anything about me, you know that I’ve plateau-ed at my current weight for about 8 months now. My energy level has been terrible and I’ve felt as if my depression and anxiety were getting worse, instead of better, and I was afraid to see how many emotional stabilizers it would require to get me to a good place in my life. I’ve talked to doctors, nutritionists, herbal specialists, acupuncturists, and reflexologists only to consistently get the same result: constant fatigue and no energy response from food. It’s like my metabolism is stunted, but my thyroid is perfectly normal. After a great deal of exploration and examination, my girlfriend and I figured out that I must have some sort of insulin response problem. For 8 months I have absolutely killed myself to get this burden off my shoulders to no avail. As month after month with the same burden on my knees, I would work harder and harder and commit more energy to easing my life. I’m in the cardiac shape of somebody a lot smaller than I, so imagine doing 7 hours of aerobic activity with 150 pounds of weight strapped to your back. I’ve been working so hard only to break even and it is so frustrating!

Why is it that every positive step in life gets harder and harder? I know that nothing comes without work, but shit this is getting ridiculous. How much determination can one person have? How much crap must one person eat, figuratively, to get to a point where it doesn’t hurt to get out of bed in the morning? It’s great that all my efforts have slimmed down my waist line and bulked up my chest, arms, legs, and shoulders but I really just want this weight off my back! When I exercise, I’m just killing myself because I’m pushing all that weight around with a great deal of vigor, but when I stop to rest, I’m still exercising because I’m have to hold my large mass up off the ground. I just want some relief.

So tired, sluggish, exhausted, and absolutely pissed off I put on my exercise clothes and went for a walk. I was planning on a two mile walk to the cell tower and back. As I got out on the road, the wind started to pick up and I became just a big parachute. My legs started to ache from pushing my massive frame through the straight line winds. As I was getting so tired and frustrated at the strength of the wind, I looked up at the sky and started taunting the heavens. “Is that all you’ve got I screamed? All of this energy all around me and you can’t knock my fat ass over! You can’t keep me from getting to that tower because I’m bigger that you, stronger than you, and better than you!” The wind zipped and roared as I kept moving forward, battling the urge to turn around and have the wind push me to the comforts of home. Louder and louder I screamed as I grabbed myself inappropriately as a sign of total disrespect to the world around me. “Is that all you’ve got? Harder damn it!” And with one final step, I reached out and put my hand on that tall metal structure and breathed a sigh of relief. At that very moment, as the pride was swelling over me, the wind subsided and it was totally calm. There, at that victorious moment was this deafening silence as I gazed into the face of God.

I promise I wasn’t on acid or “shrooms” and I didn’t electrocute myself by touching the cell tower or fall and hit my head. I actually saw God, Allah, Buddha, the all powerful lord. I realized that God is everywhere around us. He is the thorn in our ass and the joy in our hearts. He is that cool refreshing feeling in your soul when you kiss somebody you love or when you lose your virginity and he is also the pain in your heart when you lose a loved one or are diagnosed with a terminal disease. He is in the wind, the water, and every ounce of matter in our universe. Physics will refer to this concept as the laws of conservation of energy and the conservation of matter. It states that matter and energy can be neither created nor destroyed, but only change form. It says that energy is all around us. There is energy in every piece of matter around us and that physical and chemical forces can convert that object, and its energy, into another source of mass and energy. For example, there is a great deal of energy at the core of this planet. The heat from the earth’s core works in concert with the mass of the overlapping layers of rock and dirt to create this incredible pressure. The pressure is so intense that, over time, it converts the dirt and rock to coal. The coal is excavated from the group and burned to produce electricity. The electricity is used to create heat or light. You might think I sound stoned, but you have to admit that there is certainly energy in many different forms all around us.

Man has always known that there was some sort of energy greater than their individual or collective powers which evolved into the birth of religion and spirituality. As this idea of expressing the collective energy of this earth as one or a collection of beings spread throughout man, different languages, as well as the influence of power and profit formed spirituality into the religions we have today.

What I realized when I had that epiphany at the cellular tower is that God, Satan, Allah, Buddha, Jesus, the Apostle Paul, Mohammed, and all of the angels in heaven and hell are really just frames of mind within ourselves. These aren’t spiritual beings that decide the outcome of our lives, but they are our personal interpretation of the events in our lives that influence our perspective and our decisions. I’ve always believed that the devout amongst us seemed truly happy. It always seemed like my priest or minister had their bright disposition and outlook on life because they truly knew god, but I was mistaken. It isn’t because they found the all powerful, but because they had actually found peace in their own hearts.

If I want to find peace and happiness I need to keep my “temple” in the best shape it can possibly be. Not because it is god’s will, but because I am ultimately responsible and accountable to myself and only myself. When it comes down to it, the all powerful, my girlfriend, my parents, or even my community don’t have to own the consequences, good or bad, of the decisions that I make. That responsibility lies solely with me. In order to be happy and endeavor to do what I want in this world, I have to be my own personal god. I need to worship at the altar of Andrew J. Ashby in order to finally find peace. Granted, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk on water or raise the dead, but who wants that kind of responsibility anyways?

My first 18 holes of the year in the bag!!!

Today was the most beautiful day, even though very windy, to get in some golf. My buddy and I hit up a course that would be way too expensive after March and had a blast.

I averaged a double bogey per hole, but that was without swinging a club since August, no time at the driving range, water on every hole, heavy winds, lots of beer, and, oh yeah, I'm terrible!

Had a great time :)

"Golf and sex are the two things you don't have to be good at to enjoy...."

(that was from the movie Tin Cup, but I'm sure that one has been around for ages)

Thanks, but I'm holding out for Dr. Phil..... Just kidding :)

A few months ago, my girlfriend and I were getting in the car and she told me, "baby, when you're famous, I don't want anything special. Just to get to sit in Oprah's green room when you go on the show."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

"If you keep losing all this weight, " she responded, "you're gonna be on Oprah for sure.... Plus you're just a damn rock star!"

I thought she was out of her mind, but it turns she wasn't to far off, again. When my girlfriend and I were at the young survivors conference in Dallas, a couple representatives from a center in North Carolina, where I started my new life, called and asked me if I could go on Oprah!

I've mentioned this place when I first started blogging and I should explain a little more. It was a residential weight loss center in Durham, North Carolina. There was no surgery. No trick diets. No gimmicks. It was really like a Weight Watchers (registered trademark) Hotel with every different kind of doctor, physical and psychological, nutritionists, trainers, and "relaxation specialists (massage, reflexology, & ect.)." It was a great place for me to get the advice and help I needed to get started overcoming my "one million mistakes." The best part about it was the math was so simple. "You weigh this much, you're this tall, you're this old, you need this many calories to maintain your weight. Eat less and you'll loose weight. Add exercise and you'll lose more weight. It's going to be hard, but you can do it!" Their whole concentration is on the behavior of overindulging. Their approach was if you figure out why you aren't taking care of yourself, you can build yourself up emotionally and weight loss would be a byproduct. I thought it was a good theory then and 175 pounds later and think it was truly the best thing that ever happened to me.

So, Oprah's show started contacting these sorts of places for people that have lost a bunch of weight and they wanted me to go on the show! Oprah was looking for people that had lost some substantial weight already and still had some weight loss to go. I, for example, have another 100 pounds to lose. They would highlight me and the facility I started at and then track my progress. I was so moved by the honor of even being offered, but I had to politely decline.

You see, I've never been focused on losing weight. I've always been focused on improving myself emotionally, by actually taking care of myself and putting myself before all others (in my own mind), and the weight would come off. I don't freak out when I put on a pound or two because I know I didn't overeat by 7,000 calories and my weight just isn't that important to me. My physical and emotional health is, but my weight is just one factor and as all the other factors in my life come into harmony (lets all hug trees) then my weight will come to a healthier level, as it has already made a very large shift in the healthy direction. I realized that with the national spotlight, there would be an incredible pressure for me to lose weight and that pressure was going to cause me to start looking at my weight differently. I still have a lot of things to do before I'm 30 and having the nation follow me around will just slow me down and cause me to lose my focus. That reminds me, I need to post my top 10 things to do before I'm 30 (even though there are 12 now). So, I sent back the following reply:

"I just saw your message and (name removed) just called me. I'm sorry, but I have to say no. I believe that this last 100 pounds is going to be my hardest to lose and I really just don't need that sort of complication in my life. Plus, that sort of publicity and attention would be just the excuse I'm always looking for to take a break from this endeavor. I can't afford to mess this up because I think it really is my last shot to get my life under control. Thank you for the offer, but I respectfully have to decline.

Sincerely,
Andy Ashby"


You readers might have thought you were in the "IN" crowd by following some writer before he became famous, but I'm happy to say you're stuck with little (ironically still) 'ole me. Once I'm at a point where I've found center in my life, or even when my antidepressant/sleep medication isn't changing every three months, then I can start putting myself out there for whomever to examine. For now, I think I'm just going to stick to my computer and let my writing tell my stories.

We'll meet someday, Oprah.... I promise!

To Be in the Presence of Heroes and Angels….

"And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I will fear no evil…." — Psalms 23:4

A month or two ago, US Airways flight 1549 hit a flock of birds and lost the use of both engines. In an incredible maneuver, Captain C.B. "Sully" Sullenburger managed to "land" the plane in the only open area available to him; the Hudson River. By the time the last of the passengers had been fished out of the river, the captain's face was plastered over every television screen in America and the word hero started to circulate. A friend of mine decided to become a fan of "Sully's" on Facebook and within hours people started making verbal love to the captain on my friend's Facebook page. They started saying things like, "He is truly a hero….. Children should look to him as a role model and not those overpaid athletes."

The thing that bothered me from this whole incident, which I took the liberty of posting below the long list of praises, is the fact that, no matter how you spin it, he was really just doing his job. Seeing that the passengers survive the flight is his, as well as every other pilot's, primary objective and he is trained extensively and well paid to do so. Granted, as far as celebrities go, US Airways' most famous pilot would put Latrell Sprewell to shame and is probably more respected than every athlete short of Peyton Manning, but I refuse to call somebody a hero for doing his job. But that's part of the problem. The world around me has hardened me over time and that optimism I had when I was younger has been smudged and tarnished. Through all of the mistakes that I've made in my life and the pain that I put myself through, alone, I have lost my faith in the goodness of myself and the goodness of man.

My girlfriend is 37 years old and is already a breast cancer survivor of nearly three years. She was diagnosed with high risk stage 2 breast cancer on March 17, 2006, and her body has been free of cancer (i.e. the cancerous breast removed) for nearly two and a half years. She's been through chemotherapy, a lumpectomy, a mastectomy, a prophylactic mastectomy, and several reconstructive surgeries in the past three years. To make her life even more complicated, while fighting cancer, she's had to endure her ex-husband's infidelity as well as a long, drawn out divorce while somehow finding a way to keep that contagious, loving, positive disposition and a heart that is as pure as the driven snow. That spirit, after everything she's been through, is what has drawn me to a woman that is ten years older than me and will keep me at least at a glimpse's distance for years and years to come. We started dating after her treatment, but before her cosmetic reconstructions were finished, so I've experience just a small hint of the anxiety and pain associated with this horrible disease.

Shortly after diagnosis, my "queen" got involved with an organization called YSC, or Young Survival Coalition. This organization is involved with advocacy, education, medical research and personal support, either through local meetings or an online survivors' network. Since her discovery of the site, she has been an active participant on their message boards and has made some lasting friends as well as offering counsel and information for those who were recently diagnosed and had more questions than their oncologist had time to answer.

Towards the end of February, the YSC has an annual convention and this year it was in Dallas. Even though my "queen" is three years past her diagnosis, she is still a very active member, and integral part, of this multi-faceted organization. This year, my "queen" was nice enough to invite me along. The experience was absolutely incredible and nothing like I expected. I figured there would be a lot of bald/balding, sickly looking women and I assumed that it was going to be like a four-day funeral. Even though breast cancer in post-menopausal women has excellent survival rates, the odds for women under 40 are so poor that I figured the mood would be sedated and somber. Much to my surprise, it was anything but.

The thing that jumped out at me was just how beautiful these women were. Many of these women had some combination of thinning hair, no hair, visible surgical scars, ports, no breasts, one breast, and breasts in the process of reconstruction. Even with all of these "blemishes," they collectively, and individually, had this glow and radiance about them that was too overwhelming to take in all at once. So much so that you could hardly notice the light of the sun reflecting in concert with the house lights against the shiny, white marble floors! Throughout the weekend, different people would ask me, or my girlfriend, if I was freaking out, and I was; but not in the way that they thought. This band of fighters and survivors absolutely knocked me off my feet, not from the ugliness of this terrible affliction, but from their collective strength, courage, and incredibly positive perspective! Whenever these lovely ladies would gather, I could always hear their individual conversations transform into this enthusiastic roar. At one point, I could have sworn I could hear former University of Houston basketball coach, and victim of cancer, Jim Valvano in his very famous, very moving 1993 ESPY award speech; "Don't give up, don't ever give up."

There was already such a whirlwind of emotions and I had yet to understand what "stage four" meant. "Stage four," a.k.a. "mets," is metastatic breast cancer. While the cancer is localized to one specific area, such as the breast, the infected tissue can be removed (a lumpectomy) or the entire breast can be removed (a mastectomy) with the hope of preventing the spread of the cancer to the rest of the body. When a cancer is classified as metastasized, it has become systemic and is free to spread throughout the body. "Stage four" is the terminal classification of the disease and there is no "stage five." How long a person has to live varies from individual to individual. After I would meet different young, vibrant, cheerful women, my girlfriend would tell me about their condition and I was shocked at how many of these young women had breast cancer that had metastasized. They just didn't behave like somebody that was marked for an early death!

Even though it was such a positive atmosphere, you can't help but find the somber aspects of such an occasion; it is the nature of the disease. Breast cancer in women under 40 is so often fatal and aggressive that it requires the most toxic of chemicals to rid the body of this mutation. So with all of the triumph, strength, and perseverance, it is a statistical certainty that a significant number of these young, bright women won't overcome this incredible obstacle and this particular year had been especially hard on this sorority of fighters. There was Danica Martinez, who friends loved because she was incredibly funny and straightforward, but also left behind three children that she loved very, very much. You couldn't mention Danica without mentioning Jayme. Jayme Gonzalez, a mother of one, was also loved for her sense of humor and her ability to love and care for the people around her. She and Danica both were the best of friends for their "spunk" and enthusiasm. So much so that Danica was there to help with Jayme and her family in the days leading up to Jayme's death. There was Cathy, Shabby, Jessica, Lola, Courtney, Brin, Melissa, and Janet. Each one of these women had their own unique story of their diagnosis, treatment, and how they interacted within the group. They were all special and will be missed by everyone that knew and loved them.

Even though their bodies stopped functioning they are still very much with us. They are with us in pictures, stories, and memories. They are with us in trips, vacations, and past conferences. Their thoughts and words live on as well as their actions. They live on in every clinical trial, successful or unsuccessful, that they participated in. They live on in every blood test, every specimen, and every chemical or virus they allowed, if not requested, into their bodies in an attempt to exterminate this predator of women. I would like to think of them as angels that offer us hope, strength, and encouragement in ways we can't possibly explain.

So here I am, expecting this four day funeral and I find myself in this vast and seemingly endless sea of real life heroes and angels, two things I didn't believe existed anymore. The women that were currently in treatment are some of the strongest, yet upbeat, individuals that I had ever met, but it was the conference alumnae that impressed me the most. These are women that either defeated this disease or who continue to fight this disease on a long-term basis, whose families and friends just can't understand why anybody would want to be reminded of the fires of hell that either impaired or consumed their lives, yet they not just willingly, but enthusiastically rush back into the "burning building" so that they can offer support, encouragement, and most importantly understanding to those women that are in the very early stages of this arduous progression. It is that sort of behavior that re-asserts my belief that heroes really do exist! In just four days, in the presence of these heroes and angels, the optimism that I had spent a decade quite successfully tried to destroy had suddenly and miraculously been restored!

These past few days have absolutely enhanced my perspective on life. I just don't know that I can have such a glib outlook on life, even if in my case it's caused at a body chemistry level, when there are these young women who celebrate the beauty of life every moment of every day, even when something deep within their own bodies is fighting to prematurely end their lives. These young heroes demonstrated to me, through their actions, that every day that I'm alive is truly a gift and I should pursue every possibility available to me, because nobody knows what tomorrow has in store for us. These women, who have every reason to be spiteful, jealous, angry, and hateful act as a very powerful, and moving example of the human spirit that lives inside each and every one of us. They were truly an inspiration and I'm a much better person for taking the time to learn about the joy of life from their perspective. I don't know that I'll ever be put in a position where I have to walk a while in their shoes, but I do know that I would gladly carry their bags, chauffeur them around town, buy them dinner, or be their cameraman whenever necessary to show my appreciation for how their perseverance and humility has touched my life!

"Cancer can take away all my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart and it cannot touch my soul. And those three things are going to carry on forever…." — Jim Valvano, 1993



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