During the worst of it, I thought: I’d do stand-up, if I could stand up. I would take this on the road, but I’d need a driver. One friend says I have gone from being outrageous to courageous. But I’m no hero.

I feel a sense of joy in my life that others I know who have survived life-altering illnesses have experienced. It’s a joy that says I would not change anything about what I have experienced or who I have become. It is a joy that comes from finding beauty in a wounded place. I adopted a name for this kind of joy from a friend who calls it Radical Joy.