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This was originally posted on Instagram and is unfinished for a WordPress setting. As such, it will be updated.

Today marks my 1,000th (Instagram) post. For 1,000 days, save for a few days when I was too sick to post, I have posted an event in Froggie’s life. In early April of 2016, I was diagnosed with advanced (stage IIIc) cancer. Shortly after my treatment began, shortly after my entire life was brought to a screeching halt and then flipped upside down, a friend came to visit and brought with her Froggie. I immediately clung to Froggie; he became an extension of me. As my life spiraled into a nightmarish realm, Froggie kept me safe and sane. Post-treatment days, days spent in a hazy, sick, tear-filled & angry state, Froggie was a lifeline. I was living vicariously through him, through his life, his innocence, his oft strange and slightly dark humor.
Froggie arrived from Froglandia and was new to my world, just as I was new to the world of cancer & treatment. We met each other halfway, two tourists in very new and often frightening worlds. Froggie joined me to every treatment, every hospital visit, and every appointment with various specialists and medical professionals. He was there, always. He also accompanied me to my places of refuge, the local beaches and woods, where I would walk and let the horrors of my life slip away.
6 months after my initial treatment ended, my cancer returned. The treatment intensified, as did my need for Froggie and his love, his kindness, as well as his wit and sarcasm. I spent weeks inpatient while going through two stem cell transplants; Froggie was there, always. All the attractive nurses that came into our room, which was sealed off from the rest of the world due to my immune system, or lack thereof, fell in love with Froggie. Each time they came in for vitals or to change bags of fluids, etc., he would get tongue-tied and giggly when they would inquire about how he was doing.
Cancer treatment is only a small step in the arduous journey of recovery. When the physicality of it ends, when the nausea leaves and the fatigue slowly subsides, one must begin with an even longer and more difficult journey of regaining psychological and emotional equilibrium. Once again, Froggie’s daily posts and snippets of his life became a focal point for me. My day wasn’t complete until I had, once again, lived through him and his take on this weird yet beautiful world in which we humans exist.
It has almost been three years since my diagnosis. These years have taken their toll on both of us. He is floppy. I am tired. Again, however, we’re meeting each other ½ way, exchanging various forms of strength to help us carry on.