In the chemotherapy room at Texas Oncology in the Willowbrook area of Houston, TX, there is a bell with a sign that says, “Hip Hip Horray! Today is my LAST Chemo Day!”  It’s simple.  When you finish your chemotherapy regimen, you get to ring it.  It doesn’t mean that you are cured or cancer free, it simply signifies that you made it through what many consider to be a grueling, uncomfortable process.  It’s not the endgame, but it’s a huge, symbolic step.

I am a proponent of replacing the words “I have to” with “I get to.”

It’s a very simple mindset shift that has helped me navigate the unexpected landscape of 2023.  I touched on this a few entries ago, but we live in a world of abundance.  For example, complaining that you have to go the grocery store when there are people that have very limited access to food in the world is crazy.  We are lucky to get to go to local, convenient supermarkets with a bazillion choices of what to take home.

It’s easy to come up with hundreds of examples – and if you want me to, tell me in the comments and I will, but for now I’ll leave it at that.  Because this past Wednesday, I had to do something.

I had to go to the gym at 6am.  I had to because chemotherapy round 12 of 12 was to start at 8:30am.

At about 5:45am the excuses not to go were infiltrating my mind.  There was not enough time, there were other things that had to be done.  The truth was, I was in my reading spot enjoying my book.  I could sit and do that for another hour before getting ready to head to the oncology building.  But then I thought back to that first trip back to the gym on April 10th and all the other ones in between.  How each one was my own FU message to the unwelcome disease that picked me to set up shop in.  So, I put the book down, got my workout clothes on and headed out the door.  And I’m glad I did.  Because I really had to do that.  Nothing could be more symbolic than hitting the gym the morning you are going to receive your final treatment of a regimen that is supposed to tear you down and make you weak.

Over the past six months there have been many things that I have categorized as symbolic.  The bigger ones revolve around workouts and travel trailer trips.  But I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t jumped into the bed of my RAM 2500 and said something along the lines of, “Stage 4 cancer patients considering hospice don’t do (things) like this!”

If you call our journey successful to this point, I must give the credit to living as normally as possible.  I brought a laptop and worked during all 12 of my chemotherapy sessions as well as both of my (unplanned) hospital stays because self-employment doesn’t come with sick days or vacation days.  We visit with family and go to our favorite wine place when we can.  We’ve gone to see a musical, gone to the movies and made it to an MLB game.  This is my advice to anyone going through treatment for a life-threatening disease.  DON’T STOP LIVING!  When you focus on the illness and stop focusing on your life, you are giving the sickness the power to control you.  That’s how to lose the fight.

A few weeks ago, it occurred to me as to why I made the choice to chronicle our journey in a blog.  It’s about accountability. I’ve found that when I need to do something that is hard, challenging, or uncomfortable, telling someone about it forces me to follow through.  So, with this being the greatest challenge I’ve ever faced, I guess I decided to tell as many people as possible about it.  With all the support from all of you, I don’t have a choice but to succeed.

Like many, I was not always great with accountability.  When I was a senior in high school, I did a lot of talking about the things I was going to do.  But my execution rate was less than stellar.  I got to the point where my dad started saying that I was “A lot of flash, no bang.”  And I deserved that.  But it hit me hard.  I was ashamed.  I was not keeping my word.  And no one was more disappointed in me than myself.

I didn’t change overnight.  It took years for me to get better at doing what I said I would do.  And I’m still not perfect, but I’m a lot better than I was.  And this was long before I found the book The Four Agreements by Miguel Ruiz.  The first of the four is “Be Impeccable with your word”.  And that is what I’m striving for here.  I’ve given my word that I will fight to beat cancer and I intend to be held accountable.

I mentioned earlier that we hit our twelfth and final round of chemotherapy.  With my regimen, I go in for about four hours to receive two of the intravenous drugs, and then get a take home pump with a third that takes around 48 hours to infuse.  So, we were not officially done until two days after the start of the final round. 

And at 11:45am on Friday August 25, 2023, we got to ring the bell.

All of this is to say we’ve hit a big milestone.  Our progress has been fantastic.  While I was not immune, I believe the side effects that I’ve experienced from chemo have been minimal.  Some neuropathy, a little nausea and occasional fatigue.  Overall, I think I have been very lucky.

There was also a blood test done recently that checks for circulating tumor DNA that came back negative.  Another huge win for us.  The next steps involve doing more scans and getting ready for the surgery to remove my bladder and prostate that will likely take place in October.  Between now and then, I intend to build as much strength as I possibly can while continuing to live life.  Afterall, that is what we’re fighting for.

And in case you’re not familiar with the aforementioned book – The Four Agreements, and are curious about what they are, here you go:

1. Be impeccable with your word
2. Don’t take things personally
3. Don’t make assumptions
4. Always do your best

Great advice to live by.