Getting Close...

Yep, we’re kicking off Day 3 of the next-to-last spiral. I’ve completed four rounds so far, and—because I can’t help myself—I’ve been experimenting with each one, trying to find that “magic” way through them. Spoiler: there’s no magic way.

Yesterday, I decided not to sweat it. If I got something done—great. If I got nothing done—also great. Ended up somewhere in the middle: got a little bit done. Not much, but it counts. I just went with the flow.

Legs and feet were hurting, so I stayed off them. Felt like lying down, so I did. Wanted to eat? I ate. Felt like telling the world to kiss my ass? Thought about it… several times. But I let it go.

Chemo sucks. There’s no one-size-fits-all experience, but it sucks all the same. I know people care, and I appreciate that more than I can say. But don’t worry about me now—worry when I start feeling “normal” again. That’s when y’all should really be scared. I’m looking forward to that time coming, maybe early May, when this chemical soup starts leaving my system. Hopefully, it’s done what it’s supposed to do.

Funny thing—I’ve never seen my original scans. Didn’t even realize I could at first. Call us simple… maybe too simple. At this point, I’ve decided to just wait and see the before and after together. That’ll be cool—if it’s working, I’ll get to see some progress in real time. And if it’s not? Well, maybe the doc can swap the images, cover the dates, and trick me into feeling good. That’s a win-win, right?

Jokes aside, I do feel like I’m making progress. Each “up” cycle in these treatments feels a little better than the one before. That’s gotta mean something. So this time around, I’m not forcing anything. I’m just doing what I can, when I can. One more month won’t make or break me. Just gotta keep looking forward.

This morning, Chemo Brain (or Fog, or whatever we’re calling it) is back. Not as heavy as yesterday, but still lingering. Today’s goal? Keep working on www.cancermike.com. Trying to bring the vision into better focus. Might take a few days to get it cleaned up, and it might look a little funky while I’m switching things around.

It’s been tough to fully transition to blogging during chemo, but as this chapter wraps up, I want that to be my main spot. It might not be as easy to follow along, but it’s where I want to be. It’s selfish, in a way—I do this for me—but it’s also what keeps me going. Keeps my attitude in check. Honestly, I don’t think I’d be standing where I am today without doing this for myself.

And you know what? Selfishness isn’t always a bad thing. Not in this case. It’s opened my eyes to how good people really are, and reminded me we all have a path—short or long, smooth or full of potholes. But doing it alone? That would be worse than this chemo nonsense.

So listen—if you need someone to walk alongside you, just say the word. I’ll be there. And I promise, I’ll make you think outside the box.

– A Simple Man