I just completed round three of my FLOT perioperative chemotherapy treatment. While I am adapting and enduring, each round takes more and more out of me…continuing to make me feel more alien.

On a more positive view of this situation and how I measure my progress, I just past the half-way point…but, that said, a more realistic assessment of my situation means that I am only a quarter of the way through chemo and less than a third complete with my total treatment regime. I still have major surgery pending to remove my tumor and likely most, if not all, of my stomach, too. Yeah, me!.

Though a dramatic and life-changing situation, I am continually reminded and surrounded by family and friends that ensure I am not alone in this journey.

For chemo infusion #3, I was once again joined by my Pentagon better-half, Zack, during the first half of my 5 hour session.

We spent most of the time talking about a book another Space Policy co-worker, Kathleen, gifted me: Anticancer: A New Way of Life by David Servan-Schreiber, MD, PhD. In short, Dr. Servan-Schreiber explores the mind and diet elements that should accompany the proven medical remedies for treating (and even preventing) cancer.

He argues that western medicine is mostly focused on the research, development, and marketing of molecular treatments (i.e. pharmaceutical fiscal investments in making new medicines) for cancer treatment vice seriously studying the benefits of patients modifying eating habits and focusing on balancing mind, body, and spirit though meditation and yoga which don’t return multi-billion dollar profits like the latest patents.

The more I read, the more I am convinced of the authors arguments. I highly recommend the book.

And I highly recommend passing a few minutes (or hours, if you are lucky) of conversation with Zack where you will find a genuine person, full of wisdom and humor in equally impressive parts. I treasure our chats together.

Now, rewinding to right before my chemo port was placed on June 11th and my first infusion session occurred on June 12th, I ran into my long-time friend Frank on June 10th. He had just returned from an overseas assignment and we hadn’t seen each other in almost five years. It just so happened to be my last day in the Pentagon before starting my cancer treatment. We ran into each other in the hallway. Coincidence? I think not.

We only had a few moments as I had to run to catch a bus. After my brief explanation, Frank’s only response, “Tell me how I can serve you!” In these few words, you get a sense of what kind of guy he is. Amazing!

Frank’s words also reinforced one of the key life lesson’s cancer is teaching me: while it is my journey, I am not alone and I need to rely the service of others…for my benefit and theirs.

Speaking of service and support, half-way through chemo infusion session two and three, another amazing friend, Ben, completed his first sprint triathlon. Ben and his family have been dear friends for almost a decade. Not only are we friends, but training buddies and marathon maniacs.

They were some of the first people with whom we shared my cancer diagnosis. And Ben gave me my first priesthood blessing of healing and comfort.

IronBen recently crushed his first triathlon race. He placed 7th in his age division and finished 35th (I think) overall!

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He swam, rode, and ran for me! So proud of him humbled by his support. So grateful for his spiritual and visible fortifying encouragment, in addition to his and his family’s friendship!

While my body processes this third chemo infusion, I am bolster by three friends that give me the strength to endure.

Thanks Zack, Frank, and Ben! I love and appreciate each of you. You make me better, in every sense of that word!

Also, many thanks to so many of you that reach out orally, electronically, and prayerfully on my behalf! Your support is felt and very much appreciated!

Four weeks of chemo complete, four weeks to endure. I know I am not alone. Bring it on!