🎉 🎈 🥳 CANCERVERSARY TIME! 🥳 🎈🎉

Some people celebrate their cancerversary on the day they're diagnosed. Others go with the last day of treatment.

Me?

I mark the day my brain tumor got evicted—January 10, 1996. That's when a surgeon took what I can only describe as a Carvel ice cream scoop to my cerebellum and removed a now infamous medulloblastoma. (What a rocky road! hashtag#DadJoke hashtag#SorryNotSorry)

This all happened the day after the infamous "Storm of the Century" crippled (can we still say that word?) the Northeast because, apparently, Mother Nature and Stupid Cancer wanted to team up for maximum drama.

The prognosis? Bleak.

Getting read your last rites by a Priest at 3am whilst being a Jew?

Priceless

Fast forward 29 years. I'm still here. Still standing. Still "above the grass," as my dad, "Mayor Lou," likes to say.

Every day since then has been a strange mix of gratitude, too many WTF experiences to mention, and a whole lot of parenting.

Big thanks to my true friends, family, colleagues, supporters, and even the supposed cohorts who never once responded to a single email, consistently declined every partnership request, were too myopic to see the bigger picture, offered me a speaking engagement with no fee, and deterministically used lawyers to take me down personally and professionally.

You motivate me in ways I'll never admit.

Here's to standing above the grass, fighting the fights you can win, continuing to (sometimes frivolously) push that boulder up the hill, and making the most of the time that has been given to us. (Thanks Gandolf)

...And also humor in the absurdity of it all.

L'Chaim, Linkedin Fam.