From the beginning of my cancer treatment, I (and many others) often used running a marathon as a descriptive analogy of the time, process, and effort required to make it through to completion of care.

I have run many marathons. Inevitably in a several of my races, I ran directly into the mythical “wall”.

Often hitting between mile 20 and 22, the “wall” manifests as the bodies depleted energy causing the runner to slow their pace, sometimes devolving into walking, and mental thoughts that finishing the last several miles will be impossible.

I’ve had my fair share of “seeing Jesus” moments around mile 20-22 where I questioned whether I could finish. In every case, I pushed through and finished the race. It often required a little extra gel or sugar boost and hydration at the nearest water station. And a motivational text from my wife and kids.

During my phase one of chemo, I was knocked down for the first couple of days, and made a near good recovery after several days and felt pretty strong heading into the next chemo session. Of course, it got a little harder each session, but overall, I can’t say I ever hit the treatment “wall” (I count the 24-hr bug that put me in the hospital as an anomaly and not a physical or mental break down).

As I sit here recovering from chemo infusion phase two, session three, I feel I have hit the treatment “wall”. Effects of the poisons chemo drugs coursing through my veins remains longer and longer, while recovery is harder and harder. And I am questioning more and more, “can I do this?”

The physical recovery is toughest.

Like I stated in my last post, it feels like I got hit with a bat, struck by a bus, and run over by a tank (for good measure).

Mentally it is equally challenging as the pain and suffering seems never ending.

Intellectually I know the treatment is closer and closer each day to being over. But I still have to get through each day.

It is amazing how long 24-hours can feel while fighting through the the chemo treatment.

But like running a marathon, you push through the physical and mental “wall”. You know there are fewer miles to the finish line than when you started. You can do this!

On Tuesday, I complete phase 2, session 4 of chemo. My last session, hopefully, for the rest of my life. Knowing that is what has helped me push through the session three treatment “wall”.

The love and support of so many family and friends is the other aspect of breaking through this treatment wall that is carrying me to the end…even though I feel zapped of strength and energy, I know I’ll make it across the finish line upright and pushing til the end because so many are praying and supporting me.

POST SCRIPT: A little note on hair.

Leading into my phase two, session two chemo infusion, I was certain all my hair would fall out again. Every morning I woke up to my pillow covered in hair shedded throughout the previous night.

So, to avoid the slow, dirty process of waiting for each follicle to fall and cover my bedding or clothes, my wife took the clippers to my head and I quickly followed with a razor. Bald as a new born baby’s bottom.

To my surprise, within about two days, my hair (and beard) started to grow back.

Now, three weeks later, my hair is still quite short and growing back slower, but it is growing back…while I am receiving chemo. Weird. Who knew that would be the greatest discrepancy between the two phases of chemo. The first striped me bald for the better part of three months. The second slowed growth, but kept it on my head.