​First chemo session was Monday. Boring and uneventful.
Tuesday, felt great. In a good mood and even energized. Ran a couple errands, did some freelance writing work I needed to do, and relaxed some.
Today, still no side effects except I'm having a little trouble "getting the old river to flow" as I sit here on the porcelain throne.
I think I feel different somehow since Monday. Something just feels different ... inside Maybe?
Maybe this whole thing got a little more real this week?
Or just moved to a new level?
I don't know, but I remember feeling strangely upbeat Monday night. It was like id won a contest or something. They threw chemo at me and my body took the punch and handled it really well.
I wrote the next day that instead of feeling like having the chemo port implanted might be the beginning of the end, it was a new beginning.
 

Physically, I have been lucky since my cancer diagnosis back on April 7. 
Mentally, well ... that's another story.
​The past couple of days have been rough. When someone is dealing with cancer, it always seems to be called a "battle." I used to think that word was a little overused, but I'm starting to see now that it fits pretty well.
So far, I've escaped most all of the physical problems, but the mental side of it has definitely been a struggle. Everyone says staying positive is one of the most important parts of all this, but I tell you what, it ain't easy. On Monday, they are going to implant a chemo port in my chest, and one week after that is the first of two chemo sessions that my MD Anderson oncologist recommended and I agreed to.
The whole idea of having a chemo port is terrifying enough in itself. It kind of feels like giving up control or something. For nearly 10 months, I mostly dodged a bullet, undergoing a couple of fairly easy surgeries and hoping that took care of everything.
Well, it didn't take care of everything.
Since I agreed to the chemo, I've basically been quietly freaking out -- sometimes not so quietly. I've pretty much been a bundle of nerves. I'm really irritable and have gone off on people or nearly gone off on someone a few times. But I think I'm gradually coming to terms with it all.
Last night as I lay in bed, all kinds of scenarios were going through my head. I was praying a little bit and then I told myself, "Well, no matter what happens, you're giving it a helluva shot." 
Then, I laughed.
It's gonna be OK.
​One  day at a time ...  

Well, I've been to Spain three times to trek the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage.
One trip, my Norwegian friend, Tom, and I spent the night just across the border from Spain in France at a woman's house who rented beds to pilgrims, then we crossed the Pyrenees mountains the next morning on our way to Pamplona. Another trip, I took an overnight train from A Coruna on the northwest coast of Spain to Barcelona, met a couple of young Spanish dudes early on during the trip, smoked some wacky tabacky out on the platform during a late-night stop, and spent the rest of the ride drinking beer in the dining car. 
I spent a week in Costa Rica.
Drove Route 66 from downtown Chicago to Santa Monica.
Learned to pole vault the summer I turned 60 and later placed 7th at the National Senior Games in Albuquerque.
Wrote a book, found a small publisher who liked it, and started a publishing career that has resulted in 20 books (I think) listed on Amazon and other outlets. Some books have earned best-seller ranking.
A few of my greatest adventures.
Now, it looks like I'm about to embark on an adventure that tops them all.
Chemotherapy for cancer.
Yeah, I know ... I still can't quite believe it.
I always said if something like this happened to me, I would never take chemo. I have friends now who say the same thing.
Well, that's easy to say, but the game changes when a doctor says "the C word."
Everything changes.
So, in a week-and-a-half, I will volunteer to let someone infuse toxic chemicals into my veins, in hopes of eradicating this shit. 
My MDA Anderson oncologist says we are still looking at a cure, and with the type of cancer I have, it seems like the right move.
​Let the fun begin ... 

Nearly 9 months ago, I found a small, hard knot in my right thigh and it was found to be something called carcinoma with squamos cells, and later a carcinoma with unknown primary. 

The malignant tumor was removed and no other treatment done because nothing else was showing up in what they call PET scan. Then, a fancy blood test that was shipped out and took a while to come back showed something called "circulating tumor DNA" in my system.

Not so good.

So now, the oncologist at MD Anderson has  recommended two chemo treatments, followed by more blood work and another PET scan. The idea of chemo is terrifying, but I don't know what else to do. I'm doing all kinds of alternative stuff, all kinds of supplements, teas, lotions, potions, different  things. But to take a chance and go 100-percent alternative treatment instead of medical treatment at the country's no. 1 cancer hospital is something I'm just not willing to do. 

So I'm going to do both. 

Happy New Year, y'all.

Going to be an interesting year.