Today is another big anniversary. In fact, it's probably one of the most momentous days of my entire life. June 10, 1996 was day I realized I was going to survive.
I stepped on the scales and made note that I had gained 10 pounds. 10 pounds. 10 glorious, delicious, beautiful, life-giving, not-gonna-die, victorious, you can't count me out, everything is different now pounds. Or, as I put it in the diary entry:
Pop those corks, baby!
I'm gonna live! I have dodged the bullet yet again. I am going to live a long and, if you'll pardon the expression, fruitful life. With this evidence and the way I feel about The Last Session going into production with me in the lead role of Gideon, I can truly say that right now is the prime of my life. The most joyful days are here right now!
And for those of you who have watched all this over the past few months, I thank you for your prayers and your tears and your gifts of life and laughter to me.
As you can see, I was prone to purple prose even back then. But how do you put into words the fact that everything on this day changed? Only a few weeks prior, I had screamed at my doctor, gone on the "last cruise of my life," said goodbye to family and friends, made peace with the world and was content to accept the inevitable.
If you look at the days just before this, I had noted some weight gain, but I didn't want to celebrate too soon. I wanted to reach a marker of some kind. And this was it. 10 pounds. After years of not gaining an ounce. After years of watching my body wither away into nothing, I was standing there staring at proof positive that I had been granted a reprieve.
Lazarus, come out!