The First Round.

Posted: July 27, 2018 in Uncategorized


The little boxer pulls his trunks up over his chunky girth. He is tired, but thankful that the first round is almost over.
He is ready to head to the corner for a little break and some time with his trainer.
He has always thought of himself as more of a lover than a fighter, but he has come to realize lately that is okay.
Love packs a powerful punch.
It is so much stronger than fear.
It’s Friday on my first round of treatment!
We have slugged it out with the belly bully.
Just call me Clubber Lang.
I didn’t know what to expect as I climbed in the ring. I’ve heard some rough stories in the last few weeks. In the words of Rocky Balboa’s trainer, Mickey: “You’re gonna eat lightnin’ and you’re gonna crap thunder!”
But, I’m still standing (with a whole lot of help).
Some of the highlight reel for round one:
The Doctor was real concerned about tumor lysis, which is a nasty little deal where uric acid causes the tumors to explode in a very ugly manner. We’ve been checking it and I have stayed embarrassingly hydrated. We checked it yesterday and my uric acid level was zero.
I’ve had a persistent, ugly cough for a while that has scared and irritated children and coworkers. It is gone.

The heavy steroids that I’ve been taking haven’t made me mean as predicted. But, they HAVE made me really emotional. I cry watching fabric softener commercials.


Some observations from the ring:
My wife is a champion, she has been so amazing in helping me stay on track, giving me sponge baths (which, surprisingly, isn’t as sexy as it sounds), and taking care of business. She is the very definition of unconditional right now.
“YO Diana!  I love youse!”
We have met some wonderful people in the infusion chairs, both sitting and serving.
There’s every age and type of person. We all have one ugly thing in common and that makes us a tribe.
Together we fight on.
I’m an artist with a new sense of awe and appreciation for science!
I have had drugs and  fluids pumping into my body for 96 hours straight (which sounds like a spring break gone real wrong). I’m pretty that sure some of the drugs that I’ve gotten this week have cost more than my first car.
Before that, I had 5 days straight of people cutting me open and poking me (which sounds like the aftermath of the bad spring break).
Right now, I have a white blood cell booster attached to the backside of my arm. It looks very Tron like. It’s so much easier to navigate than the European man purse port pump! It seems that the goal with the white blood cells is to “build them up before we break them down” (which sounds like the title of a country song that you would listen to on the bad spring break).
SUPER sized thanks to EVERYone who has been praying, speaking life and slinging hope our way.
“YO!! We love youse!”
The little fighter used to watch boxing with his Dad.
It was a serious male bonding thing.
Usually there was belching and root beer involved.
But there was always boxing.
The little fighter thought he had the sport figured out.
Surely,  it was a solo sport.
It was all about the fighter…right?!
He was wrong.
The fight is a team sport.
Nobody wins the fight alone.

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