Cancer rules everything around me...

Until recently, if you'd asked me whether cancer ran in my family, or whether I gave it much thought, I'd say no. Heart disease from generations eating too much kielbasa and other fatty delicacies? Yup. Diabetes in the genes, and from slow metabolism, indulgent eating habits, and not enough exercise? Yes, we've got that, too.

But I always felt blessed that the diseases that spanned generations within my family were "lifestyle" diseases -- and that accumulation of the right habits might help me avoid them altogether.

But lately, it seems that we, either directly or through relationships, cannot escape the presence and action of cancer. My uncle Jack died of pancreatic cancer a few years ago. His wife, my aunt Ruth, succumbed to pancreatic cancer in February. Cherie's dad succumbed to prostate cancer in March. My aunt Joanne is suffering from pancreatic cancer and is probably less than a year out (and maybe much sooner) from falling to it. While on vacation this week, I found out that my father will, on the day after his 63rd birthday, have his second surgery in 3 years to remove a spot of skin cancer on his face.

And, since I had those hiccups earlier this year (which have begun a comeback the last few days), I've been diagnosed with an esophageal ulcer, which now puts me at greater risk for developing esophageal cancer.

At work, a colleague and friend who was originally diagnosed with prostate cancer was recently told that he'd been misdiagnosed and is actually suffering from pancreatic cancer. It's now attached itself to his colon, kidneys, and bladder, and (as he told me while breaking down emotionally during lunch a few weeks ago), has been deemed "terminal" by his new team of doctors.

Even on TV, I can't escape it. One of my favorite TV personalities has long been the author, intellectual, and professional critic, Christopher Hitchens. The rakish, acerbic, professional arguer, most often found clutching a whiskey in hand while articulating a strong and often contrarian position about an issue of the day, his long hair flowing with the rhythm of his argument, was recently diagnosed with and treated for esophageal cancer. Last night, I caught an interview with him conducted by Charlie Rose, and I was stunned by what I saw. The flowing locks are gone entirely, replaced by chemo-induced baldness, save for a few pathetic wisps of hair. The fire in his eyes has been dulled, and the color in his cheeks replaced by sallowness and sagging. I felt, watching him, as though I was staring at his animated death mask rather than at his living face. It was truly awful -- perhaps because a part of me thought I might be staring at a future version of myself.