Chemo Round 38

Chemo Round 38. What can I say? After a rocky Round 37, I'm happy to report that all is well and I'm back to bouncing back quickly. I definitely didn't take this round lightly. I made sure I drank a bunch of herbal iced tea (my new favorite chemo week drink) and took lots of time on Tuesday and Wednesday for rest and long naps. My GI system functioned perfectly, my appetite held up pretty well, and I even walked to my polling place to cast my vote like a good American. By Thursday morning, I was off to the races again and that draggy, gross, hangover-like chemo side effects feeling was a distant memory. And by Thursday night, I had gotten my first tattoo. Yup, you read that right. I'd been contemplating a tattoo for several months. Before my diagnosis, I never would have considered it. But throughout my cancer-killing adventures, as I've acquired scar after scar, I started to think about my body differently. I don't know when the transformation happened (probably when I lost my belly button), but my body became a symbol of what I'd endured. Each scar is a badge of courage, but it also tells a different story: a story of physical pain, of uncertainty, of worry from my friends and family (you know me -- I've never been worried), and of the ravages of cancer. I'm not gonna lie (and you know this is true because you've seen it yourself): I've got some serious battle scars. So I decided it was time to flip the script and get something scar-like (in its permanence on my body) that stands for nothing but good things: for strength, courage, triumph, and a big fat middle finger to The Big C. Wunder. The word means "miracle" in German, it's half of my name (WunderGlo), and it perfectly crystalizes how I feel about my life. To be where I am, to feel as good as I do, and to have the upper hand on this disease over two years after a devastating diagnosis and truly grim prognosis is nothing short of a miracle. I know that I've been blessed, in health and in the love of family and friends and colleagues and all of you, dear readers. I know that I've experienced incredible things and that even more breathtaking moments of beauty and excitement lay before me. I know that I'm living a life marked by triumph, not defeat. All of this is a miracle. So that's what I got tattooed on my body, on my upper left ribcage, under my chest tube scar and above my JP drain scar. Wunder. Miracle. And in the font that Duke uses in much of their materials, of course. You know I have to represent my alma mater, too!! I followed up my tattoo Thursday with a great Friday and an even better Saturday: spending the day at the USC football game with Dr. Lenz and some of my favorite Keck buddies (and my best friend Nick) and spending the night at the Hollywood Bowl with one of my favorite bands, Mumford & Sons (and Will, my best friend Erin, and her boyfriend Sean). Chemo Round 38 was good to me. I weathered the storm like a champ, came out tougher than ever, and gained a visible, permanent reminder about what a stone cold cancer-killer I really am. Cancer, as you might have guessed, is less than enthused. And that's the way we like it.