Recovery from round 2 of the chemo has taken substantially longer than round 1's recovery. It's taken me 11 days to feel close to the same point that I was about 7 days after the first round. I'm at maybe 40% of normal. Climbing a couple of flights of stairs still gets me winded. Doing anything involving physical exertion is difficult. At least I can read for a while, unlike in the week after chemo where the words would fail to penetrate my memory.
I have not yet decided whether I will go forward with round 3. If I do, it will be my last round this year. I'm not going to do chemo in November and December. I'd much rather enjoy what may be one of my last holiday seasons in relatively good health and spirits.
This weekend my oldest son, Spencer, is running his third Tough Mudder. If you don't know what that is, check out the videos or read about it -- it's a 4-5 hour test of endurance. I shake my head in wonder. I am amazed that anyone would voluntarily subject himself to something like that. Maybe I dropped him on his head too many times as a baby. Next month, he is running the Philadelphia Marathon -- his second -- with the goal of raising money for the Chris Atwood Foundation. Chris was Spencer's good friend who died earlier this year of a drug overdose. Spencer spoke eloquently at Chris's funeral. Spencer's fundraising page for the foundation is here -- feel free to check it out and donate a few bucks if you want.
I am profoundly grateful that I can spend time with my family, and they with me. Each day that my life is prolonged is a gift from God, for which I give daily thanks. Even now, it is too easy for me to let that attitude of gratitude slip away. Before cancer, I had so little comprehension how the proximity to death makes me so much more grateful for each moment of life, with all of its little joys.
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