The Journey....an ending...

Here's hoping that some few readers are still out there. All I can ask is that you've watched this journey with support and recognition that others have faced more difficult challenges than I. From seeing people return to chemotherapy after several years' grace, to learning that people like Tom will be sitting in their seats, weekly, for the rest of their lives...to watching little Becky conquer her demons...I'm a very lucky guy. When people like Phil have to miss a session and "something is wrong" one learns quickly that HIPAA wasn't meant for cancer patients. We care about each other, we want to know how someone is doing, and we want to know that they'll be well. Thankfully, when I left on Wednesday, everyone was indeed well.

Today, as the saying goes, is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm recovering nicely from the 12th session, it has not been as difficult as the 11th. Part of that, very honestly, is the lonely road I traveled when Judy and Carrie were in Africa. Judy's support and helpful comments allowed me, all the way along, to stay sane and upright. The other big difference was the removal of the oxaliplatin, the drug in my three-drug cocktail that kept me from drinking cold beverages.

Staying hydrated and flushing the toxins from my system is critical to the way I've recovered this week. That drug caused the numbness in my fingers, neuropathy which could prove difficult over time. So taking it out accomplished two things...it helped me hydrate better and reduced the anxiety I've had over losing the sense of touch...or taste...or concern for very cold weather. It may take awhile for all that to recover completely, but the decision to reduce the drug intake was a good one, and made my week much easier to accomplish.

No one can measure the fun of answering the phone to have a Fubarian brother leaving the golf course: clearly "infused" with his own mixed cocktail. Whether that's Billy, or Steve, or any of the other brethren...they have been a joy forever, and a special gift over the last six months. Who knew, when we were playing dodgeball in sixth grade, that we'd be on the phone to each other with sayings like "Gee, Bill...I'm not sure what to say about that...how can I help?" or as Billy mentioned the first time I told him..."Marky, I've never had to talk about this before...Are you sure you're going to be OK? What would you like me to do?" We've all grown up together, but years like we've experienced these past twelve months or so have turned us into adults. When we gather, and act like we're in junior high, no one will ever understand. Just the Fubarians, who can walk into a hotel room, open an ice chest, and feel as though they've been talking for hours....instead of apart for the past 18 months.

I'll probably post one more time. Right now, I'm so happy that it is hard to keep still, and I want to go on writing forever. But that would get boring, I'd get too sentimental, and all the little comments I've received would go for naught. Thanks, more than you can know, for the chance to share these past six months with you. I'm better. I'm healthy. I miss my kids, just like any other parent. On Monday, I start rebuilding my stamina and regaining my exercise regimen. Vickie leaves for college on Wednesday, and opens a new journey for herself. I learn to adjust to an empty nest, and look for the next phase of all our lives to open...We have a wedding to plan. We have classes to finish. We have doctors to impress and new staff members to train. What a world we live in...nothing is constant, nothing is predictable, but nothing keeps us from moving forward.

Nothing....