You’ve heard it before, but life is a lot like a game of snakes and ladders. 

Roll the dice: you plod along, one step at a time.  Roll the dice again: you jump up a few levels, thanks to that helpful ladder.  Roll the dice a third time: just when you think you’ve made it, you land on a snake and drop back down to the bottom of the board.

Most of us who played this game as children determined, pretty quickly, that the trick was to avoid the snakes.  But then, who were we kidding?  Where is the skill in that?  I mean, in the end, it’s just a game of dice, isn’t it?  It’s all about probability, statistics and chance.

Like life itself.  And there are some pretty big snakes out there. 

Now is it just me, or do we all have our top five – those numbers we desperately want to avoid? 

1. Loss of a child, 2. Loss of a partner, 3. Debilitating accident, 4. Cancer, 5. Mental illness … 

To number them in this way feels artificial.  But the point is this: life’s a minefield and, even if you manage to negotiate your way successfully through the lower half of the board, the chances are, sooner or later, we are ‘gonna get got’ by one of these big guys.

Sooner or later.

And sadly, unlike other games, you can’t keep a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card in your back pocket for when that moment arrives (despite what modern day preachers sometimes promise).  Most of these venomous events in our lives pay no respect to who we are, how good we have been or what we have contributed to society along the way. 

A highly respected friend of mine, Scott Alcott, published a book this week.  He is just the kind of guy that, if anyone could, would know how to roll those dice in perfect combination and avoid the snakes.  But his story is one I am quietly hoping that I will never have to tell.

For my 40th birthday, I got stage four cancer. A small lump under my cheek turned out to be a rare, high-grade sarcoma. The doctor said I would need immediate surgery and a year of heavy radiation and chemotherapy, assuming I made it that long. I was told to “make arrangements”.

From page one, I found myself gripped by this personal account of coping with and continuing to survive cancer.  Page after page, I found myself to be a curious onlooker – intrigued by the details and moved by the emotion held within this well-told tale.

I read the entire book in almost one sitting, but would sometimes stop and wonder to myself: ‘But what if this was me?  After all, the Scott I know is a man that appears to have it all – including the resilience to beat this thing.  Would I have what it takes?’

Scott makes the same point, comparing his journey of recovery to the now legendary return of Lance Armstrong: a man who overcame all the odds to not only survive a deadly snake, but in effect turn the bugger into a ladder – going on to win the Tour de France seven consecutive times!

I guess that none of us feel we’re going to be strong enough until it is our turn.

To change the subject just a little: have you ever noticed how thoughts (and ideas) come to us in clusters? 

It was only a couple of days ago that I found myself driving home from work – unaware, at the time, of Scott’s book – reflecting on the fact that I will turn 40 next birthday; thinking how lucky I am to have avoided major illness or tragedy in my life so far; wondering whether that means I am due for some pain any time soon.

Of course, life doesn’t work like that, does it?  Some people have all the luck, whilst others just keep hitting those snakes.  It’s all about chance.

Yes, everything is random, but nevertheless sometimes coincidences occur.

Scott’s story is not a tale I ever want to have to tell.  But if I do end up making it my own, I pray to God that I’ll approach it with something like the same resolve.

That’s all I can hope for right now as I continue to play the game and roll into the upper half of the board.

I’m Not Lance! A Cancer Experience and Survival Guide for Mere Mortals by Scott Alcott is available for purchase here.