A Curve Ball

Monday, June 19

I feel like a 12-year old Little Leaguer who has just struck out in the most embarrassing manner because I had experienced my first set of curve balls. You think you know almost exactly what to expect based on thousands of previous trips to the plate and suddenly a brand new breed of pitch comes hurling at your head. You crash to the dirt and magically the pitch makes a left hand turn, drops into the catcher’s mitt and the ump echoes: “Strike!” You rise from the dirt, dust off and wonder what just happened? You notice the sly grin on the pitcher’s face and you know, he knows, your team knows, their team knows and the entire crowd knows that in two more pitches you will be called out on strikes! You are helpless to the new forces in life………………until you can adept!

This metaphor illustrates how I’ve felt over the last 3 weeks – my second chemotherapy round of summer 2017. Based on my previous seven rounds of therapy I most certainly did not expect this surprisingly difficult time, the details of which I shall spare you.

Tomorrow we are off to OHSU for blood tests, a consult with the oncologist, an infusion of more cytotoxic chemicals and hopefully a change in pharmaceuticals to combat this curve ball. If relief does not come from the western side, perhaps, Zach, my eastern healer can sneak in something later in the afternoon. If not, I’ll bank on the prospect of unlimited fun and relaxation with my climbing friends over the next 7 days as we set up camp at the City of Rocks, outside Almo, ID.

Oh the twists and turns of life……………some more pleasant than others, but always bolt to bolt!