Week 4 Begins.....
Lets talk Math....
This curve—this jagged, unpredictable, utterly unfair curve—is the best indication of what I expect from treatment. Week 4 is technically a midway milestone, but let’s be real: the hardest part is still ahead of me. And yet, here I am, still standing, still fighting, still making lists because that’s what keeps me grounded.
My "I Can" Statements:
✔ I can eat solid food. (Chewing is still a skill I possess. Victory!)
✔ I can poop. (This is no small feat—many would kill for this kind of success.)
✔ I can still go on walks and hikes. (Take that, cancer fatigue!)
✔ I can still escape the confines of the hotel/hospital and soak in some fresh air. (Even if it’s just to glare at people eating food I can’t taste.)
Sadly…
❌ I cannot swallow without discomfort. (It’s a fun game: “Is it pain or just ‘character-building’?”)
❌ I cannot taste 95% of foods. (Which means 95% of eating is now just a texture experiment.)
❌ I cannot enjoy drinks like they’re meant to be enjoyed. (But hey, mystery flavors keep life exciting.)
My "I Do" Statements:
💙 I do have an incredible wife who is holding down the fort like an absolute champion.
💙 I do have amazing friends who check in, cheer me on, and give me space to break down when needed. (Because sometimes, you just need to ugly cry, and that’s okay.)
💙 I do have coworkers who remind me I’m missed and that I still have a place in the world outside of this hospital room.
💙 I do have the support I need to get through this, even when it feels impossible.
My Reality:
I still smile. I still crack jokes. I still find reasons to be grateful.
And if someone in my family had to go through this, I’m glad it’s me—because I can take it.
But expectedly, I miss my wife and kids. The countdown to home sort of on, and I cannot get back soon enough. (actual dates vary.... )
When I do get home, I’ll carry a renewed appreciation for the little things—good food, laughter, the way my kids’ voices sound when they’re telling me about their day. My only hope is that I hold onto that appreciation and help my kids see the world through the same lens.
For now, I push forward. One step, one laugh, one weirdly-flavored sip at a time.
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