Good Luck Bad Luck

This is a Taoist story I've been sharing with dear friends for years ever since I first came across it.

There is a Chinese story of a farmer who used an old horse to till his fields. One day, the horse escaped into the hills and when the farmer's neighbors sympathized with the old man over his bad luck, the farmer replied, "Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?" A week later, the horse returned with a herd of horses from the hills and this time the neighbors congratulated the farmer on his good luck. His reply was, "Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?"

Then, when the farmer's son was attempting to tame one of the wild horses, he fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone thought this very bad luck. Not the farmer, whose only reaction was, "Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?"
Some weeks later, the army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied youth they found there. When they saw the farmer's son with his broken leg, they let him off. Now was that good luck or bad luck?

Who knows?

And now it is time to put the preachin' to the test.

Exactly two weeks after surgery just as the last steri-strip bandages are peeling away from my skin and I'm excited to be adjusting to my fabulous new "tattoo," I find out the pathology report from the material excised from my throat. And it's a bit of "curveball", as Dr. Holsinger so delicately put it! Although the two biopsies I had done had come back clear (there were smaller nodules that can not be biopsied if they are under 1cm), it turns out that I did have papillary thyroid cancer (PTC) which actually had metastasized to a lymph node. Yea, I would definitely call that a curveball.

Needless to say it was unexpected. A shocker. Ok, and honestly, a tearjerker. But then conversations were had, I took some courses at Google "university" and a couple of days have passed to let it sink in. The good news is that at my YOUNG age (that always feels good) and my good health and as early as it is with such a small amount of cancer cells around, it is something that is treatable without major cause for cause for concern. The treatment seems pretty straight forward - swallow a radioactive iodine pill and let it do it's thing killing off the unwanted intruders and with minimal side effects - and I'll have to monitor it for the rest of my life with blood tests but hey things could be worse.

And here is Perspective again biting me in my arse...for all the stress and frustration and emotional angst I experienced trying to make it to the Olympics and running that race that felt like the worst thing ever, what do you think I would prefer to experience again?