This is the latest installment of Tick, Tock ... Time of My Life, a column about living with cancer by Larkspur-Corte Madera Patch editor Derek Wilson.

There's nothing like Christmas in California. The mercury dips slightly below 40 degrees. The hills are green and the sky is unbelievably clear. Who needs snow?

Snarky comments aside, it is a lot of fun to walk through the neighborhoods in the evening and enjoy the various holiday displays. I have seen some amazing light shows in front yards, with images of Santa, Rudolph and even a S'More Man (kind of like a snowman, but designed to look like marshmallows).

Lights, music, food and a vacation: Is this what the holidays are all about? No, but it can make the season a little brighter, especially when life seems so dark. I'm determined this won't be my last Christmas and that each Christmas ahead is going to be very merry indeed.

The holidays can be hard enough for a lot of people. For anyone with cancer or another disease, this time of year can seem bitter, cold and lonely.

"Medical treatment affects how you feel day to day. When you add on the pressure of the holiday, it can create more anxiety," said Sandy Schindler, LCSW, a medical social worker with the radiation oncology department at Marin General Hospital. "I had a patient once who would buy Christmas presents in July because she was afraid she wouldn't be alive in December."

As Schindler said that, I thought it sounded like a really good idea. At the very least, I'd avoid the holiday crush. But I don't want to open up the possibility that I might not see another Christmas.

When I was recovering from surgery at the hospital in December last year, I wasn't sure I'd even make it home in time for Christmas. I was ready to celebrate from my room on the third floor by organizing wheelchair races around the nurses station. The nurses at Marin General Hospital went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure my wife and I were comfortable, which boosted my spirits and helped speed up my recovery.

Christmas was kind of unreal last year. While I still couldn't eat or do much, I was glad just to be alive. But I still felt like there was a clock hanging over my head ticking away my days. All I could do was try to smile through the depression and try to enjoy the moments I had left.

"The impact of an illness on a person's life is sort of … you're on a merry-go-round having a good time and then you're told you have to get off," Schindler said. "When you don't feel well, everything flies out the window. You don't feel well mentally and it's hard to recover physically. Suddenly, you're faced with your own mortality."

I've had to accept the fact that I'm going to have to fight just to stay alive. This affects all my family and close friends, adding stress to their lives. So, there's some pressure to be strong for them. I don't want to die, but even more, I don't want to leave the people I love.

My family is part of a small circle of people who help me battle my cancer and depression. They've been very involved in my cancer treatment. They've listened to my worries and heard about my pain and fear. They've laughed at my jokes nad made me laugh. They've kept me safe and they've been supportive, for which I'm grateful. They've also been willing to take a step back when I just want some quiet time for myself, for which I'm equally grateful.

I don't know how many more days I have left on the clock. Every day I go through the normal routines: I get up, start work, cook dinner, play Scrabble with my wife, go to bed. Then I wake up the next morning and say to myself, "I guess I have another day. Let's see what fun is waiting for me."

There are those moments when I feel sad, or uncertain, or angry about this cancer and how it's changed my life. I've been able to fight my way out of the darkness by focusing on the good things I have: a wonderful wife and family, terrific friends, a strong support network, a great job and more.

"There's a natural inclination to isolate yourself when you're not feeling well or you're not engaged in your own life," Schindler said. "Go ahead and take a walk, enjoy the fresh air, go window shopping and look at the holiday lights."

It's your holiday and you should celebrate however you want, whether it's on a farm in Connecticut or a beach off Highway 1.

"The holidays create more disappointment than cheer because of expectations. You can have a hot dog instead of turkey for Christmas dinner if that's what you want. The holiday doesn't have to go according to rigid expectations," Schindler said.

Personally, I blame Martha Stewart for adding to the holiday stress. The modern domestic diva gave everyone an unrealistic image of what Christmas should be like and anything less must be a failure. Well, not everyone has the time, money and an army of personal assistants to create a Christmas fete complete with enough food for a small town and a tree so big that it belongs in a national forest.

Barbara Stanwyck planned the ideal holiday image in Christmas in Connecticut, playing the original Martha Stewart, but it fell completely to pieces in a catastrophic, hilarious farce. And, as all good romantic comedies do, this classic had a happy, "hunky dunky" ending.

OK, life isn't like the movies and it doesn't always have a happy ending. In fact, sometimes it's quite depressing.

"Generically speaking, people around the holidays have expectations of how things are supposed to go, whether with family, friends, traditions or other expectations. There's a notion of why there's more potential for depression around holidays is because people get disappointed. Their expectations aren't realistic. We see more suicides post-holiday as an impact of that."

Schindler's advice, "It's all about being gentle to oneself, especially when times are stressful."

About this column: I'll be sharing experiences from my ongoing battle with cancer. If anyone has a story to tell, or needs support, just e-mail derek.wilson@patch.com