It was three years ago today when everything in my life changed — when I realized that I had cancer.
I don’t remember now exactly when I had noticed the small lump in the flesh of my left breast. I probably realized it — and acknowledged it to myself — in stages that took a few weeks or a month. I’m not sure. At first, I figured it was something that would just go away, but it didn’t.
It was the late afternoon of the last day of 2011 when I finally decided to call a doctor friend about it. I went over to his house for him to take a look and give me an unofficial opinion. Although the official diagnosis wouldn’t come from a specialist until a week or so later — and the surgery a few weeks after that — it was Dec. 31, 2011 that I really knew what was going on.
There was a realistic chance that I might die.
Since the surgery removed the lump and there’s been no sign of any trouble since then, that might sound overly dramatic. At the time, though, it was an emotional wake-up call. It forced me to think about what mattered and what didn’t matter in my life.
After my friend checked out the lump and offered his opinion that it almost certainly was cancer, we sat on his front porch and talked about life. We talked about things we had both wanted to do and about how certain things hadn’t gone as we wanted them to go. I shot the photo above as we sat and talked in the fading light of the year’s last sunset.

What if narcissistic vampire bit me but he never finished the job?
Smallest ray of hope can make us feel a change we need is coming
How could a stranger at sunset possibly know what I had to say?
We can’t control timing of death, just what we do as we’re waiting
Wishful thinking: Why Ron Paul can’t (and won’t) be elected president
Don’t be shocked if insane system produces narcissistic leaders
I accept others’ amateur media, but I expect myself to be a pro