I use that same attitude when getting through the tougher part of my chemo routines. I was mentally gearing up for it again tomorrow as I'm starting tests and then going back under for at least one more pair of toxin treatments, probably more. I don't use Bernie DiMeo as inspiration for this. No, I use a guy named Max. From what I can tell, Max has never complained and never turned down a procedure because it was too painful or taxing. While I've gone through one and one half years of this, Max has fought cancer for most of his life. That's a lot of procedures and I can only imagine how many puke buckets. One other thing. Max is seven years old. He's the son of Jim and Jamie Herlehy. For much of his life, he hasn't had the pleasure of waking up in the morning without feeling miserable.
A couple of months earlier, Max seemed to be doing pretty good. It looked like his cancer was controlled. I found out a couple of minutes ago that Max, my inspiration for bravery, has come down with cancer for the third time. He has leukemia and needs to get a bone marrow transplant. Once again, he's seven. He should be worrying about spelling his name correctly.
Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up to face a nasty needle for a PET scan. That needle is going to stay in my left arm as I go from test to test until about seven that night. I already have a needle in my right arm. So I'll be double barreled. I'm going to get annoyed and frustrated more than a few times. And of course, I'm going to wonder if any of this is even working. I'll do that about a hundred times. At some point, I'm gonna need Max. I just hope he has someone he uses as inspiration. I can't imagine who. Who is braver than Max?