As I sit and write this, I have successfully begun my last and final round of chemo. I’m not even going to go into the fact that I need surgery and will have to recover for a short time. The important thing to focus on is I am almost done with this chemo junk.
It’s strange, when I was 19 and diagnosed with cancer for the first time, I kept thinking to myself “the fluids in those bags are healing me.” And it got me through some pretty tough times. Now, almost 10 years later, when I see my IV being prepped and cleaned I think, “This is hard. Very, very hard.”
I don’t know if thinking that messes me up mentally but this whole journey has been hard. Very, very, hard.
I haven’t been posting much lately because the third round really knocked me down Luckily I got back up. I feel like I should write something about that famous saying “it’s not about the amount of times you get knocked down, its how many times you get back up.” Well I feel like that saying doesn’t really apply because I got knocked down once and I got up once. If this were an actual sport, it would be very boring as a spectator. It’s equivalent to a guy noticing that his shoe is untied and fixing it, not exactly ESPN material.
I will not get knocked down again this round.
Today I finished my first day of the final round and all of the familiar aches and mental strains came rushing back. But this time I realized something:
This will be the last round of chemotherapy I ever have to do.
It has to be. I feel it. And if the Universe decides to hit me hard again in 10 years then I will say “Ouch, 2 knock downs. This is no fun.” But then I will get back up, making the fictional spectator sport even more boring because it will be equivalent to a cat landing on its feet when jumping off a coffee table, people will ask for their money back.
Cancer will never give me a full KO and I’m almost done knocking this disgusting disease out of my system for good.
I can’t wait to cross this finish line with all of my loved ones and family. You all have been incredibly supportive during this time. I wish I could hand out trophies and awards to everyone that has helped…but I can’t because those are expensive and I wouldn’t even know where to find a place that makes trophies for cancer.
“Yes I’d like to make about 18 trophies.” –Me in the trophy store.
“Well sure, is it for a t-ball team or something?” The kind and overweight man behind the counter asks me.
I look around the shop and realize that maybe I could ask for a discount by using the cancer card but I would rather support a local business.
“Oh no, no. It’s for cancer support.” – I grin and hope he doesn’t ask anything else.
He asks something else.
“Like the astrological sign?” – the counter man inquires.
I ask myself “How would he know about astrology but not know about the countless types of cancers there are and the people that support someone who have been diagnosed?”
“Yes, like the astrology sign of Cancer. “ I reply because I don’t feel like sharing my story with another stranger. Sometimes it’s a long story, especially on an empty on stomach.
“Thought so.” The muffin top counter man smiles and rings me up.
He looked so happy that I didn’t want to bum him out talking about cancer in his shop. Luckily he gave me a discount because he said his spirit guide told him that I would be I would be coming in today.
So to all of those that have supported Jade and I: please pick up your Cancer astrology support trophies when I finally cross the finish line in August after my recover from cancer.
I will be the guy smiling wide and looking forward to the future
But you remember what I look like, right?