I was talking with Emily yesterday (while crying ... yesterday was a hard day) and she said something that made the most sense in the world. She said, "You're finally feeling like a cancer patient." For the first 10 days of treatment (up through April 30) I felt ... fine. Well maybe not fine, but not bad. A little bit of fatigue, a little bit of brain fog, but nothing bad or hard. And then a little bit of pain, like a sunburn where you don't ever expect one. More symptoms started to creep up. It was like winning the worst game of bingo ever.

It started to happen slowly. Each day something felt a little different. Like my body wasn't quite my own. Everything was a little off. I am finally turning into a cancer patient. You can't tell when you look at me. I still have my hair, and I haven't lost weight in any noticeable way. I look and sound fine. But I don't feel it.

I've only told a handful of people at work, and only one person who doesn't know has asked, "Are you OK?". I think that means for the most part when I'm on video calls I still look and sound like myself. Or, if people think anything is wrong, that it's related to an upgrade one of my teams is working on. These upgrades are stressful to say the least.

This last week has been extremely hard. And knowing that I have 10 more days ... two fucking weeks ... of this left part of the journey is mentally challenging. My doctor said, it's not going to get better. The most helpful thing has been the love and support from my friends and family. Crying and talking about my emotions really helps too. Writing these updates, even if no one reads them, helps. Appreciating small things helps. Cheering and jeering for sports teams helps.

All of this to say, I'm not doing great, but I am doing OK. I just keep taking it all one day at a time.

Ten more days of treatment and then I move onto the next part of my journey