9 July 2021 (posting late)

Well, I hit a milestone in an arduous journey I didn't sign up for, but was thrusted into without courtesy or warning--perchance by accident or my own volition. This bittersweet event or perhaps better characterized as an achievement, almost didn't happen on numerous occasions as I wanted to quit quite a few times. The 200-mile round-trip journey every 2 weeks for the last 6 months combined with heavy traffic, terrible parking, and the ever present smell of chemo did weaken my spirit, but not my resolve (I have an appreciation for rumble strips now and a driver). The constant severe nausea, neuropathy, headaches, and extreme exhaustion served as a platform for morbid thoughts of my untimely demise, but was positively countered with laying the foundation for a hope of a cure (actually remission since a cure is not attainable at this time) and long-term survival.  Deep into the abyss of deep thoughts of extinction was this ringing of the bell ... a symbol of success ... a dim light of aspiration ... a goal ... an achievement of extreme endurance and perseverance to get through the treacherous gauntlet of unpredictable side-effects and sometimes hopelessness despite the many stories of those that tried, but failed.  

For the unfamiliar (I was), a rear admiral in the U.S. Navy in the mid 1990s, Irve Le Moyne, was undergoing radiation therapy for head and neck cancer and told his doctor that he planned to follow a Navy tradition of ringing a bell to signify “when the job was done.” He brought a brass bell to his last treatment, rang it several times and left it as a donation. It was mounted on a wall plaque at a cancer treatment center with the inscription:

Ringing Out

Ring this bell

Three times well

Its toll to clearly say,

My treatment’s done

This course is run

And I am on my way!

— Irve Le Moyne

Having began my military career in the US Navy, the navy tradition of the ship's bell resonates with me. However, being told you have a terminal illness is a unique experience that ushers in a plethora of thoughts and emotions, even for this stoic to exhibit. 

The future remains uncertain coupled with an unpredictable disease that can abruptly ravage the body and disarm treatments.  As with any problem, I study, analyze, and develop courses of action along with risks and mitigation strategies. In other words, I own this problem and the solutions.  Only so much can be done though and statistics drive outcomes and the clock of life.

Thank you, Admiral Irve Le Moyne, for the mark of meritorious achievement! As much as I would like to NOT admit, I needed this Polaris to guide me to mission accomplished!

Also need to give my sincere appreciation to family and friends ... the texts, calls, visits, and a couple of bike rides helped me harness the positive energy to continue moving forward.  To those, thank you so very much. If or when I beat this or get well enough to eat real food, to those I couldn't accept their generous offers for great meals, be prepared to cook! 😊