We keep track of time in a number of ways.
I was watching bull-riding this afternoon. Yes, I admit it, bull-riding.
You have to stay on the bull for 8 seconds. Not very easy. Most of the riders last half that time. And they pay a big price -- broken ribs, broken legs, arms, you name it.
Now, I've managed to stay on the bucking cancer bull for almost 33 months. Long beyond what anyone expected. Long beyond what I expected.
No broken bones, so far, but it hasn't been easy. In fact, it seems to get more difficult with each passing day.
So what does that mean for the future? Do I fight for another 8 seconds, or another day, or another month?