The Triathlon Approach to Cancer

I have officially come to the end of the first phase of life with cancer.  Mostly it means that I will not be getting any more cisplatin, which is a chemotherapy agent that is widely used (my son got it when he was treated for a brain tumor 15+ years ago).  It is hard on the kidneys, and one of the more nausea inducing of the chemotherapies.  So while my kidneys came through reasonably well, I had lots of experience with the nausea, despite medication to combat it, and now I can hopefully wave good-bye to it (fingers crossed and many prayers that that is ture).
My oncologist likened the road ahead to a triathlon, which I know something about vicariously because my brother and his wife are avid amateur competitors.  I have just finished the open water swim phase, and am about to begin the biking portion.  The transition between these two phases is kind of fascinating to watch, because there is a shedding of the swimming paraphernalia and a gearing up to get on the bike, which entails shoes and a helmet, and most importantly, a bike.  The whole process looks a little clunky, and that accurately reflects my transition as well.  I still have a few reminders of my acute treatment left to cope with, making it hard to feel particularly celebratory that that phase is behind me.
So I am embarking on a year of maintenance treatment, the nature of which may change over time, but entails more chemotherapy, just less intense, but probably keeping me bald the entire time.  Oh well.  It is yet another indication that what I have is indeed a bad disease!  None-the-less, with all the caveats aside, it is good to be moving forward.