How do you feel?

December 9, 2025

Maria and I are back in NYC after a few days at home, where I got to soak in a little normal life. I attended a retirement celebration for a co-worker, and the real highlight, I got to watch Noah run in his first indoor track meet of the season. Moments like that hit differently now, and I’m grateful I was there for it.

Now I’m back in the city for another round of tests and treatment as I gear up for the big Christmas Chemo Conditioning week. Meanwhile, my T-cells are off at the lab, getting modified and prepped for their comeback tour. As I type this, science is literally re-engineering part of me. Wild, right?

People ask me all the time, “How do you feel?”

The smart-aleck in me always wants to answer, “With my fingers.”

It’s a joke, but it’s also a tiny escape hatch from a question that’s so much heavier now. Because when you’re fighting cancer, how you feel stops being small talk. It becomes a daily diagnostic. A check-in. A scorecard. A question weighted with worry from people who care and a question weighted with reality from doctors who need the truth.

But here’s the messy honesty:

How I “feel” depends on the hour.

Sometimes I feel strong, like I could lift mountains with sheer stubbornness.

Sometimes I feel like a tired phone at 3% battery, hanging on long enough to send one more text.

Sometimes I feel grateful.

Sometimes frustrated.

Sometimes full of fight.

Sometimes needing a moment to simply be human.

So yes, I joke. I say, “With my fingers.”

Because humor gives me a breath of air when things get too heavy.

It lets me answer without having to peel myself open every single time.

Behind the joke, there’s a quieter truth:

I’m feeling everything.

I’m fighting.

I’m learning.

I’m being held up by people who love me.

I’m here.

I’m feeling all of it, the good, the hard, the unexpected.

I’m still showing up.

I’m still moving forward, one heartbeat, one breath, one stubborn step at a time.