BOGO

Gonna have to make this one a BOGO; Buy One Get One for those of you not up on the lingo. Had some technical issues and internet gremlins ate my homework, so to say.

Day 8 was a bit of a let down. Had my Chemotherapy Infusion right before Memorial Day weekend. That has a tendency to put things in perspective for you. Regardless of what you believe or how you choose to celebrate; Memorial Day started out Decoration Day and was a time to tend to and decorate our Veteran’s graves. It doesn’t matter where it originally started or when, the truth of the holiday remains. Those sobering thoughts are what struck me during Day 8.

Every two weeks I show up for my treatment. Same Bat-Time; same Bat-Channel. I start to see the same people every time. I start to see them slowly waste away from their treatment; thinning hair, skin going pale and translucent. Whether it’s a battle or a disease; I see them slowly losing their struggle. Some days, I’m not sure what’s worse. Seeing the same people every week or not seeing them. Did they reschedule their treatment that day? Has their treatment run it’s course? Is there another reason they’re not there; is their struggle at an end?

I’m in my early 40’s. It weighs on heart to keep seeing posts on Social Media remembering family and loved ones who has succumbed to Cancer. It hurts to keep hearing about funeral arrangements; sending flowers; crying during phone calls. Cancer is a relentless killer. It doesn’t care who you are, what plans you had with your life. It keeps coming for you.

A story was share with me that a woman described cancer like a mountain lion. It chases and follows you relentlessly; trying to kill you. Your only hope is to find a bear that lives at the top of a mountain and get it to attack the mountain lion.

Going into Day 9 was tough. For the first time since October of last year, I got sick. I’m not talking the flu, roto-virus, or even a stomach bug. Nothing exotic, just a head cold knocked me on my keister for four, maybe even five days. Truth in lending, I’m probably still not completely over it a week and a half later. The first day, I spend 90% of the day with a thermometer hanging off my lip like a nerdy Steve McQueen.

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The doc had the stuffing scared out of me getting sick with a fever over 100.1. Now, that’s not much of a fever; I typically run at 98.8 or so. Pop 100.1 and it’s not go to the Doctor but hit the Emergency Room. Needless to say, I spent most of the first day off work chugging Dayquil and taking my temperature. The second day, was spent catching up on Netflix, Dayquil, and drinking all the fluids I could handle. Not even the good fluids, like a cold glass of water. Warm Gatorade. Yummy. Since Cancer sucks and doesn’t take a day off; this is all in addition the “normal” side effects that I go through every week. Sore hands, sore throat, can’t hold an ice cube, can’t drink anything colder than lukewarm; my quasi new normal.

But that’s OK. At least I’m not doing something stupid like going out of town for work for the week. I’m on chemo, getting over a cold, and gonna get into a sealed metal tube with 200 of my closest plague bearers. What could possibly go wrong?

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