It’s has been great to have had three weeks since my last infusion, but here it is the night before Round #3 and I definitely have a good amount of anxiety. Everyone keeps reminding me that after this treatment, I’ll be halfway done. Now mind you, I’m really trying hard to get behind that fact. Unfortunately, it feels more to me like somebody made me bungee jump, and then made me do it again and now I have to go do it YET again. Anybody who knows me knows that I am not fond of hurling my body in any direction: not on roller coasters, not on snow-covered ski slopes, and not with anything that would require a parachute. Frankly, I usually don’t pass the height requirement.
My motto has always been, “If you make it out of the Lion’s Den alive, don’t go back for your hat.” Regrettably. I don’t have a choice. So Round 3 it is. A six-hour drip of 8 different cytotoxins. And so, I’ll put on my parachute of courage and climb aboard the Chemo Coaster for another ride.
After all, once I knock out a total of six rounds, I still have to visit the Midway where I get to try my skill at absorbing 7-weeks of radiation. At least, I know that the one of those giant panda prizes is going to be being cancer-free, and that’s worth the price of admission.