The end of a week off from chemotherapy, and I feel surprisingly good. But the unknown is out there. I have a little less than a year of this left. It seems like a long time to live on the edge of your seat, but it's my only choice.
I walk for about an hour nonstop most mornings. Reports are that exercise gives me the best chance for treatment success and side effect minimization. I would have exercised anyway.
But it seems like a hold your breath, wait and see game; a long trudge through the night in the swamp, slow going, sometimes hard to make forward progress. Sometimes not caring much at all about how it all goes. It is a plethora of emotions you sometimes can't see coming.
But, hear the sound of the sound of the water moving as I step forward. And there is the sucking of the mud when I pull my loss from a place where the poor footing stopped me. This is so much like endurance sports. Maybe that's how God prepared me for this?
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