No more Needles, Please!

12.27.2023- Christmas has come and gone. My first day of my second round of my third bout with Cancer has also come and gone. It was a day. Just like they all are. I don’t enjoy any needles or drugs going into my system. The port makes it easier but I still have to stare at the tower of drugs for the few hours that the infusion takes. It’s hard. Throughout this whole ordeal I’ve stayed positive and convince3d myself that I just need to get through a few more treatments and this will be all over and I will be healthy again. As the treatments continue and the bouts pile up it is harder for me to keep this faith. I hate needles. I hate the drugs. I just want to be healthy. Only a few more months of treatment. I believe.

I am so fortunate to be surrounded by loved ones through this ordeal. My father and mother have been by my side through all of the treatments and that really means a lot. I have o ask them every once in a while for the space to allow Me and Megs to be a team but overall the four of us have been the team that I needed. I don’t feel incredible today. My body is heavy from the drugs and the Benadryl is wearing off. The steroids are taking over. I’m lit up. I don’t want to relax or rest or sleep I just want to walk. I don’t want to snowboard, or run, or skate; I just want to walk. I could skin up Copper to take pictures but I know that is too much for me. I DO NOT WANT to rest, but I MUST rest. It’s extremely important to get the proper rest. As much as these treatments are physically overwhelming, without rest the mental toll continues to build to an explosion.

My mental is being tested this bout. I wish I could blame it on the drugs, or the people surrounding me, but that’s just simply not the case. It’s me. It’s this disease. I didn’t realize how aggressive my case was. It was always downplayed to communicate with me how curable testicular cancer is. WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT. How about sitting me down and not laughing in my face about me being nervous about this disease in the Fall of 2022. “It’s one of the most curable forms of Cancer. We will treat it and you will be good.” Your fucking wrong. It’s not that easy. I get that there is a playbook to go by and that playbook points towards easy cure. But this time your fucking wrong. The Yankees were up 3-0 in 04’ and they fucking lost. I was at a very high 95+% cure rate and I’m losing. I need a 2023 Heat type comeback. I’ve lost a few games but overall I am going to win. I will end up in the championship of this life. I will live a long and meaningful life. No one nor nothing can take that away from me. I am strong. I surround myself with Warriors. My mum helped bring tears of triumph to my eyes as treatment began yesterday. She re-instilled in me that I am a warrior and I will beat this. It’s not that I don’t believe everyone else when they say this too me, but they don’t truly know me like my mum. She knows my limits and she knows that my body and mind will be pushed to these limits nd fully recover to happiness, health, and wealth. I love you Mum.