PO Box 1980

I was twelve years sober in June 1999, when I received a disturbing diagnosis from my doctor: it was cancer. I was in shock. With my best alcoholic thinking, I thought I would die in a couple of weeks. I was wrong. The doctor told me I might live a year or longer, but I was already planning the funeral. It was going to be a big AA memorial service with all my friends and family there; I would see to that!