Until recently, I used to feel a bit ashamed to talk about the fact that I have leukemia when I met someone new (or even in normal conversation). This puzzled me. It’s an intense thing to find out about someone, to be sure, but why should I be afraid to bring it up? I’m the guy with cancer, after all.

After thinking about it for a while, I typically hesitated because I did not want to be that type that always seems to have something to complain about. It’s so hard to actually get to know someone like that, and I can imagine the reverse is true, as well.

You know the type. Drama, drama, drama.

This, of course, makes it all the more confusing when someone asks me how I am. “Well, I puked my guts out last night,” can come across as aggressive, at least in its openness and honesty. But then again, is that my problem? They’re the ones that asked…

I have leukemia. It sucks some times, though occasionally I don’t even think about it. But I don’t see the point in not bringing it up when it is on my mind, especially if I think I am trying to protect someone’s feelings or am afraid of their reaction.

I remember in high school youth group we had to respond to this particular situation: What two things would you take with you if you woke up with your room was on fire?

It was hilarious, in retrospect, because we all had to be very pious. This meant that our first item was our Bibles, followed by the one item that we really wanted to keep from getting torched. Give me a break. Our Bibles? Unless this is a 200 year old Bible that has been in a family for that long, I somehow doubt that any one of us would have cared at all about the ten-dollar Bible sitting under a pile of dirty laundry.

Of course, by answering such, we all appeared very well behaved and spiritual in front of everyone else. And we perpetuated the stigma that one can only be a part of the group if you were very pious, or at the very least, can fake it really well. We tended toward the latter.

It wasn’t until college that I heard the first accurate response to that question. My friend, Stephen, answered with, “My pants.” After all, we tend to sleep without pants, and if we have to watch the firemen try to save what’s left of our house or protect the houses around us, then it’s probably best to do so with our pants on.