The Space Between Where I Am and Where I’m Going

April 6, 2026

My treatment continues, and the routine is beginning to settle into something familiar. Each week brings labs and a visit with my local oncologist, a steady rhythm of check-ins and numbers that help tell the story of how my body is responding. Every three weeks, I make the trip to Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center for more in-depth testing and to continue participating in the study.

Along with this routine, I am also getting my local injections of Nplate and Nivestym. These have become part of the weekly cadence as well, helping support my platelet counts and white blood cells as my body works to recover. I had a moment of curiosity the other day and actually looked at the packaging a bit more closely. Turns out, one of them is produced using E. coli. I had to laugh at that. Not exactly the most appetizing thought, but also a reminder of how fascinating modern medicine really is. The science behind all of this is incredible, even if it occasionally gives you a moment of pause and a smile.

My blood work continues to climb. I am not quite back in the normal range for some of the most critical numbers yet, but we are getting close. More importantly, these are the best numbers I have seen since June of last year. That matters. It is steady, measurable progress. Slow improvement is still improvement and right now that is exactly what we want to see.

I started physical therapy last week, and it has been both encouraging and humbling. There is a lot of work ahead of me, but there is also a clear path forward. My short-range goal is to walk without tripping over my foot drop. It is simple, direct, and something I am working toward every day. My long-range goal is to get back to hiking and backpacking, to return to the mountains and the quiet places that have always brought me peace.

There is something about being out there that resets me. Away from the noise, away from the constant movement of daily life, I find clarity. I find peace. Standing at the top of a mountain has always felt like more than just a view. It feels like perspective. It feels like grace. I have often said that those moments are reminders of God’s presence and His desire for us to see the beauty of the world He created. That goal is still out there waiting for me and I hold onto it.

Physically, there are still some things we are trying to understand. My hair has been thinning more than expected, and we are not entirely sure why. It may be stress catching up with me, or possibly an autoimmune response related to my treatments. The body has a way of reacting in ways we do not always anticipate. For now, it is something we will continue to watch, another small piece of the bigger picture.

I am also working my way back into the office for a few days each week. It has been more challenging than I expected. Each day there seems to wear me out in a way I cannot fully explain. Maybe it is the building itself, old and carrying the weight of years. Maybe it is simply that I am not used to the daily grind of being in the office anymore. What stands out to me is that I can do the same work, for the same number of hours, from home without feeling that same level of exhaustion. It is something I am still trying to understand and work through.

I also know that my retirement from being a federal agent is approaching. It will be sometime this year, though I do not have the exact date yet. There is a lot tied to what comes next and much of that will depend on my scan in June. That scan will help shape what the next chapter looks like and what goals I set moving forward.

In the middle of all of this, there are moments I am genuinely looking forward to. This week, I will be heading to Nationals Park to watch the Cardinals take on the Nationals with a few great friends. It will be good to be out, to laugh, to feel a sense of normalcy again, even if just for an evening. Those moments matter more than they used to.

I am also taking a week of leave to travel to New Orleans while Maria presents at a conference. That trip feels like a gift. Time with my family members. Time to reconnect, to sit and talk without a schedule pressing in. I am planning to visit Preservation Hall, which has always been one of those places that captures the soul of the city. I am looking forward to the music, the atmosphere, the history in those walls. And of course, the food and the warmth that New Orleans always seems to offer so naturally.

After that, I will make my way back to New York City for my next three-week checkup. It will be a busy stretch with a fair amount of travel, moving from one place to the next, from appointments to moments of rest, from treatment to time with people I care about.

There is a rhythm to all of this now. Not one I would have chosen, but one I am learning to live within. It is a balance between pushing forward and being patient, between holding onto long-term goals and appreciating the small wins right in front of me.

Photo by Carol Highsmith's America on Unsplash