A lot can happen in a year

So, it’s been a pretty huge couple of weeks for me in the world of storytelling.

With the first anniversary of my wife’s passing next week, it’s also been an emotional rollercoaster.

I had planned to have her story completed by next Thursday, one year to the day since my inspirational & deeply missed KJ took her last unforgettable breath in this world.

However, that won’t happen.

Now, that is partly out of my control. The two most significant co-contributors have told me that neither of them will have their story of KJ ready by then.

But neither will I.

And that is largely because of how much KJ has changed my life SINCE she said, “See you soon, babe,” that last time.

Let me explain.

No human being living on this planet has changed my life as significantly as KJ did while I knew her in this life.

If I’m honest, I was hooked from that first date I booked that just happened to be at one of her favourite Italian restaurants - something I only discovered after I told her where I’d booked for our first dinner. I guess it was a great sign that we were “meant to be” right from the start.

Seeing her in the flesh for that first time, I will neever, neiver, never forget that smile.

Or those eyes.

And then getting to know her and walk through this life with her was such a great adventure - that’s how she described it.

We packed so much into the few years we had together. Several close friends have commented that we squeezed more out of our 4 years together than most couples do who’ve been together for 20 years.

However, it was impossible not to.

And that was not because we lived in the valley of the shadow of death.

It was because of KJ’s infectious joy of life and her unstoppable determination to make every moment count as much as she could.

However, since she passed on, I’ve been looking through the jigsaw pieces she left behind, trying to create the picture of who she was so her son & his eventual children would have a permanent record of the remarkable woman she was & the incredible life she lived.

As I have, I’ve fallen in love with her even more, something I didn’t think possible.

And the more that I’ve looked into the insidious disease that stole too many years from her life - the beast called lobular breast cancer - the more I’ve realised that something needs to change in our country to save thousands of other women from going through what Katrina did simply because they are like Katrina was - unaware that relying on mammograms is almost guaranteed to fail the 10% of women with extremely dense breast tissue - and, sadly, that is documented, demonstrated science.

So, I’m doing something about it.

Over the last 16 weeks, I’ve been studying for a Master’s in Health Promotion & Advocacy to equip me to get legislated changes for women’s breast health in Australia.

All my lecturers so far have let me shape my assessments around lobular breast cancer awareness and I have been learning sooooo much!

However, I am particularly excited about the newest development on that front. It is something that will add a whole new galaxy to the universe of Mike Harris Stories.

“And what, pray tell, is that?” I hear you ask.

“Well,” I respond, “That is a damn good question. And I’m so glad you asked.”

And the answer is ... <cue drum roll> ... I am going to become ... <drum roll rises to a crescendo & ends with a phantasmically fajitasmic K-POW!> ... a doctor.

Yep. You’ll be able to call me Doctor Mike.

Not a medical doctor.

I’ll be doing a doctorate of research, something my current lecturer suggested and is right behind.

And the topic of my doctoral research?

Yep! You guessed it.

Lobular breast cancer.

And why women have not been properly informed so they can make the best decision for themselves.

“So, why does that matter?” I hear you ask.

Dabnabbit, you are asking some great questions today!

And I have got a great answer for you.

Because once I am accepted into the Doctorate program (I will hear about my progress next Friday, 1 day after KJ’s anniversary), it means that the next time I go to our nation’s capital and chat with Australia’s Assistant Minister of Health and other key political bigwigs, I will no longer merely be a grieving widow.

I will have the authority & credibility of a university and every scientific researcher who has gone before me.

It means that every meeting like that over the next season of my life will become a matter of public record that can be included as part of my research.

Of course, some will not be happy, as the changes that need to happen will cost $$$.

However, what is the price of even one woman’s life, let alone thousands?

And I am confident that the many women whose lives will be saved through early detection will enjoy this story as it gets written - hopefully, eventually (though not too distant in the future) into Federal legislation.

It will be storytelling on a whole new level.

And that is worth writing about!

Total aside (yet not as I’ve played this song to death & cried a river to it since KJ passed away), this is the song that inspired the title of my blog this week.

Though I’ve learned from the most painful experience how fast life can change in the worst of ways, knowing that should also inspire us to make the most of the time we get - to love those we can & leave this world a better place.

No matter what, a lot can happen in a year.

May we all choose to live as Katrina did & live a life worth living.

PS: The words in the video are a little wrong. The chorus is “If I could hitch a ride on a time machine …”