Gut shot

Perhaps the best measure of yourself is your friends. I am one of those guys that brings everyone else's measurements down because they associate with me, whereas I am lifted up by just about eveyone else who I can call a friend. Borepatch has been one of my best friends since first grade. Both of us had brothers one grade ahead of us. We grew up in a town, not a city, so the volume of kids at each age was not so great that we only played with those in our own grade. Therefore, Borepatch and I as often as not hung with our older brothers as part of our crowd. And through the years, I became pretty good friends with Borepatch's brother. Extremely bright guy and somewhat disturbingly, he was unfailingly nice to me, even if I was one of the annoying little kids. He would definitely be one of those people that bring up my overall life score because I have called him a friend. So it was quite a blow when Borepatch told me his brother had been diagnosed with cancer. I tried to figure the right words to describe my feelings. There aren't any. "Gut shot" was as close as I could come. I told Borepatch to pass on my good wishes, and I believe the prognosis is good. However, for a guy who sits in a corner office in a big downtown Boston high rise, I feel pretty inadequate and powerless. Godspeed on your recovery, Dave.