Once again, the chemo was able to enjoy a brief victory over my energy reserves. The tiresome effects of the medicine seem to be lingering a bit longer than last time. Although I feel well, I am markedly tired at the end of each day. Of course, this treatment is meant to be compounding rather than cyclical.
As opposed to the end of my last treatment cycle, I'm not particularly sensitive to certain tastes such as salts and sugars. The parallels to pregnancy-eating still exist, however. Currently, I seem to be on an all-cheesecake diet. More specifically, each meal seems to contain at least one slice of the delicious dessert...even breakfast. What's more peculiar, I've never really had an affinity to cheesecake until this past week. Thanks mom.
Just yesterday, the seemingly lifeless stubble atop my head began to abandon ship...again. I'm not completely sure how hair-loss is supposed to happen, but I seem to be letting mine go in cycles. Regardless, I'm pleased to know that I have a decently shaped scalp. Albeit, slightly freckled.
With one more week until the start of the third cycle, I will continue to stuff as many calories as I can into my open mouth. I need food for energy, yet eating requires so much of my energythat it becomes more of a chore than a hobby following each cycle. How's that for a catch-22? Whatever it is, it's a darn good excuse for some more cheesecake...
Good night.

One more thing...
Amber and I gave the kitten to a foster family. With my senses running amuck, the smell of the little critter was making me nauseous.

That familiar ol' treatment number five is upon us. That being said, I expect to be MIA for a few days. Not for reasons any more serious than complete and utter exhaustion.
Bear with me while I hibernate briefly, and I'll catch y'all on the upswing.
I'll post as soon as I can, but no later than Tuesday!!

Also, the kitten remains nameless. Let's name the little guy!!

Few things in life are as important as a good bunch of guys to run around with. More important still are the ones willing to partake in a friendly game of head-shaving. No sooner than I sounded the ol' "my hair's falling out" whistle, these guys were looking like a bunch of hairless rats. God bless them all.

Aside from finally looking like a cancer patient, nothing much has transpired over the last few days...aside from a random camping trip to North Carolina's Smokey Mountains. As Amber and I met a friend for dinner last Friday, our table discussion led to the notion that we should go camping. Within two hours of paying our tab, we were off! Spontaneity is a virtue not to be overlooked. As is randomness. Such trips are always the most memorable, even if they don't always go as planned.

Long story short, we ended up staying in a hotel as our campsite began to resemble a lake...and our fire-pit a bathtub.

My second round of treatments began on Tuesday. Since then, the word of the day...or week...has been nausea. Although I am nestled beneath a plethora of anti-nausea medication, the power of one's subconcious is a force uncontrolled by artificial means. The sights and smells of the infusion center are enough to send my nerves into overdrive. As it has been explained to, this is some sort of an evolutionary characteristic designed to remind of unpleasant stimuli or responses. The theory of evolution has just shot itself in the foot.

Backtracking a bit to a previous post, I'm sure you're all wondering about the aforementioned critter that my wife and I have come to adopt...

Following my treatment this past Tuesday, Amber and I found a TINY little kitten in the grass next to our house. Perhaps "tiny" isn't a fitting adjective. What we found was a two-week old kitten. It's eyes barely open, he was struggling to move all alone in the grass. His likenes is similar to that of a small black mouse. Not ones to abandon helpless critters, we picked him up and made a pitstop at the emergency veterinarian clinic. Following a brief discussion with the staff, we decided his best chance of survival was in a box...at our house. For almost three days, we have been bottle feeding the un-named critter every two-hours 'round the clock. Such is the life of kitten adoption I suppose.