Home Sweet Home (and the Looming Shadow of Consolidation Chemo)

Freedom! Fresh air! A refrigerator stocked with more than just lukewarm jello and questionable sandwiches! Yes, folks, Josh is officially a free man (well, as free as one can be with a compromised immune system and a lingering fear of hospital food). After what felt like an eternity in a sterile, beeping box, he’s finally back in our own chaotic, cozy haven.

And let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of sleeping in your own bed after weeks of hospital mattresses. It’s like sinking into a cloud of pure bliss (a cloud that may or may not be infused with the comforting scent of laundry detergent and dog fur).

But before we get too comfortable in our domestic bliss, let’s talk about the elephant in the room: consolidation chemo. Yes, that’s right, the chemo saga continues. Just when we thought we were done with those delightful infusions and their charming side effects, another round looms on the horizon.

So, what exactly is consolidation chemo? Think of it as the sequel to the original chemo blockbuster, but with (hopefully) fewer plot twists and a slightly less dramatic ending. It’s designed to solidify the gains we made during induction chemo and wipe out any lingering microscopic villains that might be hiding in the shadows.

Essentially, it’s like sending in the cleaning crew after a wild party. Induction chemo was the rager that trashed the place (aka Josh’s body), and consolidation chemo is here to mop up the spilled drinks, vacuum up the confetti, and make sure no stray partygoers are still passed out under the couch.

The good news is that consolidation chemo is usually less intense than induction chemo. The doses are often lower, and the side effects may be less severe (fingers crossed!). But it’s still chemo, which means it’s not exactly a walk in the park.

So, what does this mean for Josh? Well, in a couple of weeks, we’ll be back in the chemo trenches, armed with anti-nausea meds, cozy blankets, and an endless supply of bad jokes. We’ll be navigating the world of blood counts, side effects, and the constant balancing act between fighting cancer and maintaining some semblance of a normal life.

But we’ll also be celebrating the small victories, cherishing the moments of joy, and holding onto hope with a white-knuckle grip. Because that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? The unwavering belief that even in the face of adversity, there’s always a reason to keep fighting.

Thanks for being here with us, folks. The journey continues.