Let me paint a picture for you.

You have cancer. You go for a chemo treatment. You know that the chemo can kill the disease, but it won’t be easy.

You arrive at the treatment center in the morning. First you line up for a blood test. You need to pass this test before they let you have the chemo. You nervously let them try and find a vein to take your blood. Since this is not your first time, the technician has to go through several attempts to find a vein. He keeps apologizing as he pricks you.

While waiting for the results to come back, you sit in one of the nice recliners. Maybe you pull the footrest lever so you can raise your legs and get comfortable. You turn on your laptop, check your e-mail, and try to smile politely at the other patients waiting for chemo.

You know that many will not make it.

You wonder if you will.

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NOTE: I wrote this a week ago and did not send because it did not seem right with Israeli Memorial Day/Independence Day. Stella is actually feeling MUCH better now. If you don’t believe me, look at the pic. And BTW — This made sense in my head, but it may not to you. I am in no way saying that running is like chemo.

Now then……

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I always try and wake up an hour before I have to leave for a race. Sometimes that means waking by 4:00 AM, but I need to do so because I am always nauseous the morning of an event in which I know I will be suffering. It’s weird. It’s like my body is trying to convince my mind that it’s not worth it, to go back to sleep. And it doesn’t matter how many races I’ve done. Always the same. Wake up, feel sick.

Friday was the Uriyah Duathalon, an event combining ten kilometers of trail running with thirty of mountain bike riding. It’s a new event that was launched to coincide with the moshav’s 100th anniversary. We got there early since if at all possible, I try to get to events with plenty of time to spare. Even if that means standing around for a while. It gives you time to see others and have some friendly conversations while waiting to put your body through the wringer.

Stella feels sick the morning of chemo, long before she actually gets the drugs. It is the psychological dimension of what her body is going to go through that makes it rebel. Usually she can fight through it and we try to get to the hospital as early as possible. A number of people do so and despite what all the patients are in store for, people seem quite friendly and relaxed as they sit around waiting for the real day to begin.

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I know, I know.

You’re not supposed to run two marathons so close together. You’re supposed to let your body rest for a few weeks.

And in normal times, that would be sound advice.

But we’re not in normal times now. So as long as Stella is feeling all right, I’m going to keep on running. We both want to focus on what is possible, even when it is difficult.

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I could have written about a lot of stuff tonight.

I could have written about the visit of Stella’s parents and just how wonderful that has been for all of us. And I think I will.

Just not now.

I could have written about today’s chemo treatment, about my thoughts when seeing the diversity of cancer patients — Arab, Jew, religious, secular, etc. About how cancer is an “equal opportunity” employer. And I think I will.

Just not now.

I could write about how my dear, sweet, kind, beautiful wife is also tough as hell, and she is right now grappling with the agony of chemo with a stoic expression, locked in a private combat with an invisible enemy. Come to think of it, I will write that now.

But most importantly, I want to write about what the Doctor told us today.

He showed us a piece of paper with the number “97″ on it. Don’t ask. I have no idea what there are “97″ of. But I do know this:

That there used to be over “300″ of whatever is now “97.”

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Today’s post was hard.

Why?

Because we have nothing to report.

No tests, results, meetings, etc.

I originally thought that it would be nice to have a day “off,” but it wasn’t so great.

Someone described  dealing with cancer as “hurry up…..and wait.”

It is very true.

One day the Doctor calls and says “could you just swing by the hospital right now?” and you end up spending half a day there.

Other times, like today, you wait all day to hear test results that just don’t come.

I assume that since it’s now Thursday or Friday (it’s actually 3:00 AM, kinda of in between,) that we must wait until Sunday now to hear the results of the PT Scan.

But what do I know, this is our first time on this ride.

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