As I approach my fifth cycle of chemotherapy, I have noticed that my fingers are more tingly than before, that cold stuff sucks a bit more, and that I have a funny feeling in my mouth pretty much all the time.

On the bright side, my labs continue to be essentially normal. Genetic testing shows that my cancer may also be receptive to immunotherapy as a back-up treatment modality. I am generally eating well and I continue to exercise regularly (some have even claimed I look like I’ve put on muscle!).

Yet as this first step begins to decrescendo, I do find myself feeling scared again. I wonder, is this chemotherapy actually working? What will my repeat scan show? And then of course, what will surgery entail?

In these moments I have looked to someone who knows all about uncertain times. Someone who has braved his world in a silo at times, under utterly ridiculous circumstances that change at every turn. This is a person who takes each day anew, keeps his head down and does everything asked of him through a full day of work and then for two hours after. Of course I refer to my 6-year old son, Zian.

For those not familiar with Zian, he has autism with fairly high needs and minimal speech. Zian has attended myriad schools, has traveled 3 hours a day on the bus, has braved a pandemic at its epicenter with virtually no support. And yet, the most this boy (who maybe can’t speak but understands every damn thing) asks of us on a daily basis is some chocolate milk and maybe a yogurt smoothie. His entire life will be saturated with uncertainty. Can I not just deal for a year?

This entire argument of mine may seem illogical to some, but the fact is that at least once a day I look at his face and feel warmed to my core. It brings me to tears. Like inspired Braveheart/300/Rudy “Let’s do this!!!” tears. How can that be wrong?

My 41st birthday was on July 20. Incidentally, I saw an Instagram post that this day was also the first MSK Giving Day. Looking further at the MSK Instagram account, I saw that there was a young woman named Mariely who has a similar diagnosis as me. We started chatting and needless to say, she and her wife Clarisa have given Sapana and I incredible courage as the four of us get this done. Oh, and Mariely turned 41 on July 19. To learn more about her journey please visit her site, as you have mine:

https://linktr.ee/marielythriving?fbclid=PAAaaoiJGnKxJYsXNOj54UX2uP8ieHhGcQm59O6SzaVnmdSFycdMEpHLy_SeA_aem_AQ_al4aBCHxaf-DnLV-Lm-N2phpIrWCqx_fffihGNUyz6fXcHe8IT1EjL4z4YjtqG30

So there you have it. Strength in unexpected places. But certainly not unlikely.

As always, peace and love to all.

Sachin