Last month, at the age of 33, I was diagnosed with Stage 3 kidney cancer. Within minutes of the diagnosis, I read online that there is a 53 percent chance that I’ll still be alive in five years.
That’s a ton of information to take in, but it also says almost nothing at all. Fifty-three percent? Maybe it’s the kind of 53 percent that is actually much closer to 100 percent or maybe zero. I keep trying to solve the survival rate, as though it’s a riddle that can be worked out with enough persistence.
Since the diagnosis, my mind has been a pinball machine. My thoughts have pinged back and forth and eventually always head toward the same-sloped corners of memories.
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