The eve of a new chapter...

It's New Year's eve and I'm writing to you from treatment. Yep, still doing treatment, every 2 weeks, but it's been so much better without the Oxaliplatin. Still chemo (a more mild drug - not platinum based) and immunotherapy. Then, at the end of treatment, I get the little gravity fed pump thing filled with chemo (it's like a little grenade filled with chemo that I carry around in a little fanny pack). It's plugged into my port and I have it for 48 hours. So, Monday treatment and pump, Wednesday go back and get pump disconnected. A week and a half off, then back again to start it all over - every 2 weeks. Plus, in between, there are doctor appointments and check ups and scans and blood work. It's kinda exhausting.

I am feeling good though - strong, energized, motivated. I'm moving rocks and chopping wood and Jess and I are in the middle of building her greenhouse and looking forward to Spring. We're still hitting the gym almost every day and - call us crazy, lol - just signed up to do a Spartan 5k with 20 obstacles, in September. My weight is up and appetite is good. Eating has been fine - no issues. I have a scan scheduled in a few weeks and then we'll see where things stand and then the doctor will most likely put me back on the Oxaliplatin. Ugh.

Sometimes, I look back at where I was a year and a half ago and marvel at where I am now. I'm stronger now than I was before I was diagnosed. Yet I still have Stage IV cancer. I have to remind myself - I still have cancer. And besides the cancer, I have no idea how the constant chemo cocktails and two rounds of radiation have affected my organs, my longevity...but the bloodwork always comes back with great results: kidney and liver functions great, white blood cells awesome, platelets solid, heart good, lungs clear, blood pressure comfortably low....but sometimes I feel like I'm sailing a ship that has a big hole in the hull and the sinking is inevitable. I'll never give up, but I know that right now, that hole is unable to be patched. How long can I keep the ship afloat? If I have it my way, it'll be for quite a while still.

It's those moments, when it hits me, that I realize I'm on borrowed time. But then again, aren't we all? Sometimes I wonder how the hell I'm where I'm at. I don't think the doctors and nurses thought I'd be here today. Not with how bad I was a year and a half ago. How did I never lose my hair? How have I managed to climb out of that dismal hole of frailty and death and vomit and sickness? Look, I'm not a religious person, at all. I appreciate all of the prayers from those who do believe and I thank you for the time, thought, energy, and love with which you've approached that. Just like I appreciate the same thoughts, well-wishes, and support from those who aren't religious and channeled their energy in other ways. Knowing so many friends and family were pulling for me, was energizing and encouraging. But I really think that it has been a mix of sheer determination, stubbornness, optimism, good genes(?) and damn good modern medicine. I also have the most amazing and supportive partner in the world (yeah, I'm biased, but still...)....Jess has been nurturing, supportive, tough, proactive, protective, and above all, loved me and believed in me with every last fiber of her being; even when she was drained herself in every way - emotionally, mentally, and physically. Even when it looked like the last day was approaching.

But here we are, surviving together like we have through so many struggles we've faced together. Here we are about to enter 2025 together. Here we are training to do a Spartan Race together, lol. In December of 2022, it seemed that my time was over. Here, in December of 2024, I feel like my life passport has been stamped with a renewal. I'm going into 2025 with even more energy and love of life - working on staying healthy and strong and creative. I may have cancer, but dammit, I'm making cancer look good.

Happy New Year, friends!