The 4^th of July holiday came on the heels of Dr. Anthony Fauci’s dire prediction that we might reach 100,000 new daily COVID-19 cases unless swift action was taken. Rather than dissuading me from traveling, this very worrisome trend convinced me it was now or never. Under that context, I judged a return to Cumberland Falls might be our first, and only, chance to escape together on a hiking trip any time soon. To be honest, I was going a little stir crazy too after being stuck at home for more than 3 months. Although the daily tally of new COVID cases peaked at a “mere” 70,000, it seems like that was the right decision since we will soon pass the horrific benchmark of 200,000 COVID fatalities.

We left late on the morning of Friday, July 3^rd, and arrived at the Dog Slaughter Falls trailhead in the afternoon where we met Nataliya’s friend Larisa, another Ukrainian expatriate who lives in Lexington. We hiked the short “new” trail, which is about 2 miles round trip, as opposed to the “old” trail, which is about 6 miles round trip. The “new” trail is more popular and well-traveled, while the “old” trail is nearly overgrown. Just make sure you are at the right trailhead, otherwise you might be sorely disappointed (one way or the other)! The “new trail” was not very difficult and ends at a 15-foot waterfall on the Dog Slaughter Creek. I haven’t found much information about the origin of the name, except for rumors reported in a local newspaper column which claim that either a wild animal killed hunting dogs in the area or that people drowned unwanted pets in the creek.

There weren’t many other people on the trail, but, when someone did pass us, I always put on my mask ahead of time and tried to give them a little extra space. I kept it on for at least 10 or 15 seconds afterwards. That might seem excessive, but I’m not taking ANY chances due to my cancer diagnosis. Nataliya and Larisa let me walk ahead of them so I could keep my mask off 90% of the time. I still ended up with a little blister on my nose from all the rubbing caused by the wire in my mask as I took it on and off frequently.

My masks are made from heavy 300-thread count cotton with an extra disposable filter inside too. They were uncomfortable, but not overly so, except while hiking up some steep hills on another trail on Saturday. During our trip, I only saw a handful of people wearing masks, although Kentucky Governor Andy Beshear has since required masks to be worn in public. If I can wear a mask while hiking uphill in Kentucky in July, then you can too (baring legitimate exceptions of course)! Otherwise, you might literally kill me! Thank you in advance.

Hot and tired, we checked into our spacious cottage at the Cumberland Falls state park resort. We cooked up sausages and pasta for dinner with Larisa. Nataliya and Larisa still had lots to talk about after dinner, even though they had chatted a lot on the hike too. I also signed up for the AllTrails Pro app (https://www.alltrails.com/pro) on my phone, which has general information for more than 100,000 trails, including elevation, length, and difficulty, as well as reviews and maps. The Pro subscription adds some extra abilities such as offline maps (which can be very handy) and a safety feature. They had a sale for Independence Day, so the cost was only $15 annually (as opposed to $30). We didn’t use it a lot on this trip, but I figure it will be worth it even if we only use it a few times during the Year of COVID-19.

We got up early on Saturday morning, the 4^th of July, to claim an early plot on the Laurel River Lake beach on the Highway 1193 spillway. This was the destination that had sparked the whole trip – Nataliya was yearning to lie down on the sand! Our early start meant we arrived at 8 a.m. and had the beach entirely to ourselves for at least an hour. A significant crowd did not arrive until about 10 a.m. and even then, the beach was not very packed. We had enough room to keep a very safe distance from our neighbors. I lounged in the shade of a tree and read “The Liberation of Paris: How Eisenhower, de Gaulle, and von Choltitz Saved the City of Light,” by Jean Edward Smith. The book had a been a gift from my parents on Christmas 2019 that I finally got around to reading. It provided a good overview, and I was surprised by how much the German commander von Choltitz did to save Paris. He was surprisingly adept at hiding his tracks from Hitler too

Afterwards, we headed to the Eagle Falls trailhead which is on the south side of the Cumberland River across from the visitor’s center. The basic trail is about 3 miles round trip but is at least moderately strenuous with lots of climbing up and down stairs. There is “scenic” overlook on a ledge 0.1 miles above the main trail, but it was severely overgrown when we visited. It’s a lot of extra climbing to get there and you can actually get a better view of the Cumberland River along the main trail. I have acrophobia (a fear of heights) that did not really bother me until we rounded a corner about 0.3 miles from Eagle Falls (shortly after crossing a seasonal creek and passing a fork in the trail). As opposed to the rest of the trail, this portion had very little tree cover, which made me feel exposed and uneasy, so I turned back.

Nataliya and Larisa continued to Eagle Falls while I followed part of the southern trail fork on a 1-mile loop that approaches the falls inland. I went another half mile before turning back to rendezvous with Nataliya and Larisa. The loop was much more quiet and serene than the main path. I saw only two other people on the trail, while the main Eagle Falls path was pretty popular. It wasn’t crowded, but it the traffic was consistent and the heaviest of the three trails we hiked that weekend. It was a little harder to maintain distance from people passing on the opposite side of the trail since it was pretty steep and narrow. The loop is an attractive alternative if you are looking for a longer and quieter hike. However, there is some additional climbing if you want to consider this option.

We again cooked sausages for dinner and then attended a free astronomy workshop on the patio at the Cumberland Falls resort park’s Dupont Lodge. The three of us claimed a table for ourselves. The workshop was interesting, but the unfortunate park ranger had to shout over the clatter of the nearby air conditioning units. The holiday weekend was also an opportune time to view the famous “Moonbow” phenomenon at Cumberland Falls, which is the only place in the Western hemisphere where it can be seen. However, it was only visible late at night (no earlier than midnight according to the park ranger). After a full day of hiking, and with another busy day ahead of us, we reluctantly decided to turn in early.

We compensated by squeezing in several fun activities on Sunday, July 5^th, before heading home. We reserved two spots for a morning horseback ride. The Cumberland Falls state resort park has stables who offer sessions every hour from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. for $20 per person. The 45-minute session went by quickly! When I was a kid, my parents occasionally scheduled horseback rides during family summer vacations. However, the last time was about 10 years ago on our trip to the Pacific Northwest! My dad once had a “bad horsey” who took him for a ride as it galloped away from the group at Cannon Beach, Oregon. My mom was once stuck with a “bad horsey” approximately 20 years ago who tried to get rid of her by brushing against every tree along our path in Colorado (and there were a lot of trees there)! On July 5^th, my horse was pretty tame, although he did trot quickly a few times which left my lower back a little sore the next day due to my poor posture. I had fun and it brought back fond memories. Nataliya was thrilled too – she had only ever ridden a pony at the petting zoo as a small child in Ukraine.

Before heading home, we embarked on our longest hike yet – almost 6 miles round trip to reach Van Hook Falls. Don’t be misled by your GPS, because the trailhead is inexplicably placed on the opposite side of the road from the parking lot at a “T” intersection. The roads were thankfully not very busy, but the arrangement is not ideal. The trail was relatively easy except for a short descent down to the falls, but someone has helpfully tied a rope to assist along the way. The trail was relatively deserted. The Van Hook Falls are about 40 feet tall and you can walk around behind them. We saw a rainbow in Van Hook falls too which partly made up for missing the Moonbow the previous night.

Nataliya is rarely one to pause and savor the moment (which is my preference), but she surprised me by suggesting that we stop to cool off in the Cane Creek, which we had crossed over on our final approach to the falls. The creek also has a weathered bridge across it that rests a top a large flat rock shelf. We put our gear and shoes down on the shelf and walked barefoot in the shallow, cool water which was very refreshing. After cooling off, we headed back to our car.

Overall, the trip was a lot of fun, and I was able to relax without worrying too much about COVID-19. I definitely needed to escape from my apartment too. It was a great opportunity for Nataliya and I to spend some quality time together, which has been in short supply recently. The trip also briefly restored some semblance of normalcy in a world that has had so many crises, from COVID and the election, that the jokes about them are becoming unfunny.

Since I haven’t been able to use any of my vacation days so far this year, I’ll have to find some way to use them before February 2021. My dad hopes to reschedule Paris for the fall or winter of 2020, but I think that is pretty unlikely. Given that COVID-19 is not likely to go away anytime soon (despite what our president claims), it looks like I’ll be hiking a lot in the next few months.

I would love to take an extended “digital detox” in a cabin somewhere. I really enjoyed sitting on the beach at Laurel River Lake and reading, which I haven’t done for pleasure in a long time! I would love to have a week to read, write, and hike! If I can’t tolerate a whole week, I’d settle for at least 4 or 5 days – ideally before it gets too cold. Plus, Nataliya, her son and I plan to return to Cumberland Falls in September (while staying at a distinctive treehouse) and finally change it up by visiting Red River Gorge in October. Otherwise, I’ll have to hunker down for the “long haul,” because I won’t be able to have a post COVID-19 “new normal” until there’s an effective treatment (at the very least) or a vaccine.

When it came to launching my very successful birthday fundraiser for ALK+ cancer research, I was actually hesitant to create an official Facebook fundraiser, because I have several coworkers as friends even though I am not “out” at work. I am pretty sure my boss was smart enough to Google me before she hired me, and the first search results are this blog and a local TV news story about my treatment. However, she’s never indicated she knows anything about my diagnosis. It’s the quintessential “elephant in the room.”

Having a fundraiser outside of Facebook allowed me to block my coworkers from reading the posts (as I do with all my cancer-related updates). If there is a way to filter who sees an official Facebook fundraiser, I couldn’t figure it out.

Only recently did I start dropping hints by telling coworkers I had a condition that put me at very high risk for COVID-19. I haven’t been any more specific than that and nobody has pressed for more details. I recently had to decline a happy hour invitation to celebrate a coworker who is transferring to another team. I explained that I can’t drink anymore and that I am strenuously avoiding gatherings of any size. My coworkers don’t seem curious at all why I can’t drink beer, even though they know I love brewing and was a craft beer lover! That’s because my cancer medication has incurred some moderate scarring/damage to my liver over the last there years, and both my oncologist and liver specialist said consuming any alcohol would only make it worse.

My coworkers did not press for more details, and, on the one hand, I appreciate their respect for my privacy. When I started my current job in 2018, one coworker looked me right in the eyes and said, “I don’t want to know about other peoples’ problems.” It’s true that we all have enough on our plate; on the other hand, I sometimes wish they would express little more interest in me!

So far, my employer is only encouraging people to come into the office on a voluntary basis. Nevertheless, my doctor sent a letter to my boss explaining that I was high risk and should not return to the office anytime soon, but that did not provoke any further inquiries either from my boss or any HR managers. Until there is a vaccine and/or effective treatment, I will resist going back to the office as much as I can. I have been working remotely since the shutdown in March, and there’s no reason I can’t keep working at home for the foreseeable future. In fact, I hardly leave the apartment at all anymore, except for occasional visits with my parents or my girlfriend Nataliya (with masks and social distancing of course!).

My cancer diagnosis has caused me to lead a double life, because, in the pre-COVID era, I spent 9-10 hours a day with my coworkers who seemingly never knew about my condition. I am certainly not shy about discussing it in almost every other setting, except for work. At some point they might need to know, but right now I would prefer they don’t find out via a Facebook fundraiser!

I can certainly tell you that hiding a cancer diagnosis from my workers is not nearly as fun as being an international spy or secret agent. However, it’s extremely common for people to compartmentalize their lives and lead double lives in various ways (usually an extramarital affair). In fact, anyone who reads this blog could be a member of the international brotherhood of deceivers!

I have considered telling my coworkers at various points in the past 2 years since I was hired. However, I’ve always decided to defer disclosure until it becomes necessary. I was furloughed from work for several weeks during the shutdown in the spring, which showed me that I was lower on the seniority totem pole than I thought. Several more junior members of the team stayed on the job when I thought they would have been ahead of me “on the chopping block.” It was actually perfect timing to be furloughed, because I had my second round of radiation treatment at the same time. Plus, with the extra $600 in unemployment assistance, it was like a paid vacation with a raise. In the end, I preferred being furloughed to being at work!

Since the furlough proved that I have a target on my back, I fear that disclosing a cancer diagnosis would only move me to the top of list for additional furloughs or layoffs. I would like to think my boss would stick up for me but probably only as long as her own job wasn’t threatened. Cancer is tremendously expensive for employers and totaled about $264 billion in 2010. In fact, my employer provided insurance plan tried at the start of 2020 to deny coverage for my medication, which costs $14,000 (a month!!!). Eventually, my doctor convinced them to keep paying for it, much to my relief.

You might be thinking, “Isn’t it illegal to fire someone simply because they have cancer?” Yes, it is! Cancer is considered a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act, and employers are required to provide reasonable accommodations. As of yet, I don’t need any accommodations so disclosing my diagnosis would serve no real purpose other than to draw unwanted attention. Regardless, employers still frequently fire workers who are diagnosed with cancer. I could probably get another job, or I might win a nice legal settlement if I were illegally terminated from my position. But, with COVID still raging, I’d rather not have to deal with any extra stress.

I certainly want to tell my coworkers about my diagnosis and, if I did, I am sure the news would shock and sadden them. They probably would have contributed generously to my recent fundraiser, and I suppose I left “money on the table” by keeping them in the dark. On the other hand, they did buy and hand-deliver some delicious macaroons (one of every type) from the Macaron Bar (sic). It was very thoughtful since COVID scrapped my planned return to Paris and Normandy this year. But for the foreseeable future, it seems like everyone will keep pretending like nothing is wrong.

My recent trip to New Orleans proves it is possible to have a rich life while living with stage 4 lung cancer. Although I couldn’t drink because of the medication I’m on, I still had a great time.

I flew down on Tuesday, April 11, 2017. I hate flying and it’s been several years since I had to get on a plane. I had some anti-anxiety medication left over from when I was also on steroids, and I took one before I got on the plane. It worked wonders, and I wasn’t nervous at all on the way down or on the return flight. In the air, I finished an audiobook about the Arcadian settlement of Louisiana.

We arrived early in the afternoon on Tuesday so we still had half a day to explore New Orleans. Bourbon Street was one of our first stops, but I wasn’t impressed. It was pretty busy for a Tuesday night in the off season, but it wasn’t much more than cheap liquor and bad music. Plus, it stank!

We had dinner at Crescent City Brewing Company  where I had an alligator sausage po’boy. It was unremarkable, except that the sausage was a little tough and chewy.

Then we had beignets for dessert at Café du Monde. They were an interesting treat and tasted like a crispy donut. My dad loved them so much we went back almost every day, and they lost some of their unique appeal as a result.

As we were eating beignets, a parade of illuminated bicycles rode up Decatur Street. The cyclists had strings of LED lights attached to their wheels that lit up the night. Some cyclists hauled small speakers on trailers behind them that blasted music, while others used megaphones to produce wacky special effects and other noises. It was a joyful, and entirely unexpected, event, and was just one of several serendipitous experiences we would have before we left New Orleans. These “social” bike rides have been occurring several nights a week for the last seven years.

On Wednesday, we explored Jackson Square and the French Market. We visited the old US Mint which had some interesting historical displays and artifacts about the process of minting coins. It also had two modest displays about Jazz musicians Louis Armstrong and Pete Fountain. We went to Central Grocery for lunch and split a single enormous muffuletta sandwich between the four of us. It had ham, salami, provolone, mortadella, mozzarella, and olive spread. I’m not a fan of olives but I enjoyed it none the less and suggest you should try it next time you’re in the Big Easy.

On the way back to the hotel, we stumbled upon a tiny National Park visitors center in the middle of the French Quarter. Named for the legendary pirate Jean Lafitte, the visitors center provided a good overview of Louisiana’s diverse cultural history, including Native American, African, French, and Spanish influences.

However, after only a day in New Orleans, the city’s luster had already begun to fade a bit. It’s impossible to ignore the large numbers of homeless people as well as beggars in the city. The French Quarter was also crowded with cheesy stores full of cheap trinkets for tourists, such as t-shirts and pralines. It reminded me a lot of Pigeon Forge. At the same time, there were lots of high-end art galleries, fashion stores, and restaurants. Later we visited the Garden District, and I was overwhelmed by the stark inequality. Massive mansions, decadent palaces, and enormous castles lined St. Charles Avenue. On the other hand, the homeless lived in tents under the freeway. The huge gap between the rich and poor disgusted me. Of course, it’s not just a problem that needs to be addressed in New Orleans, but across the country and around the world.

We ate dinner at the House of Blues and I had some pretty good salmon and Cuban beans. We walked around the French Quarter some more and stopped back at the Crescent City Brewing Company. As you will see, my dad has a habit of latching onto something once he likes it, while I prefer to try something new.

On Thursday, we visited the National World War II Museum, which was one of my top destinations. It was a mixed experienced. The introductory session at the museum was very interesting and visitors board a train just like recruits did during the war. Each visitor was assigned a “dog tag” that allowed him or her to follow the story of a real WWII veteran. However, the museum was so crowded that it was impossible to find and use the interactive stations that told each veteran’s story. I was impressed that the museum included a section about the merchant marine, because it was an essential part of the war effort that usually doesn’t get much attention. The museum also did a good job of balancing local and national perspectives in the exhibits. Lunch at the Soda Shop turned out to be our worst meal in New Orleans. The service was very slow, the tiny shop was crowded, and the food was very expensive and bland. My uncle Dave exclaimed that it was indeed possible to have a bad meal in New Orleans!

The museum included a rather modest collection of tanks and plans. I was expecting more than just a Sherman, Stuart, and a few fighters. None of the vehicles on display were that interesting or rare. I also achieved a small personal victory over my fear of heights when I walked out across the catwalk that was suspended several stories above the ground. My one regret was not paying the extra $5 for the USS Tang experience, which recreated the tragic sinking of an American submarine in the Pacific.

We skipped the Nazi propaganda exhibit and the display about the Pacific Theater because we were running out of time, energy, and emotional stamina. The exhibit on the European Theater was quite comprehensive, albeit a bit superficial since it’s hard to accomplish both depth and breadth. The most interesting exhibit was the 4-D movie narrated by Tom Hanks. It only lasted an hour and was therefore also very superficial. However, it was very frank about the horrors of war and had lots of entertaining technical gimmicks. The nose of a bomber plane was lowered on cables when the movie discussed the strategic bombing campaign. The nose made it feel like the bomber was actually coming out of the screen towards the audience. Artificial snow fell when the segment on the Battle of the Bulge began. The chairs were equipped with motors that shook violently when the film depicted the detonation of the atomic bomb.

After being exhausted both mentally and physically by the WWII museum, we took the trolley car back to the French Quarter. It was very cheap at $3 for a day pass and every efficient. Trollies moved quickly and arrived at regular intervals of about 20 minutes. The weather was also warm and breezy, so riding in the trolley was also very pleasant, even if it was crowded. It’s an essential resource for anyone visiting New Orleans.

Back in the French Quarter, we stopped at the pharmacy museum. My paternal grandfather had been dean of the college of pharmacy at the University of Cincinnati where my brother is now studying to follow in his footsteps. Although we only had a few minutes before the museum closed, we had fun exploring the collection of medical equipment, bottles, and advertisements.

Our next stop, Arcadian Books, was another priority for me, and is said to be one of the best foreign language book stores in the Crescent City. As a Francophile, I originally planned to get a book published in French, but instead, I bought The Accidental City: Improvising New Orleans by Lawrence Powell. The store was small and filled with books, and the owner was very knowledgeable and helpful.

Upon exiting the bookstore, we immediately encountered the Louisiana Funky Butts, a brass band from Stuttgart, Germany. This was one of several fortuitous musical encounters we had before leaving the city. It’s amazing to find such great music out in the streets. The bands we found simply by strolling the streets were much better than the mediocre cover bands playing on Bourbon Street.

After dinner, we went back to Jackson Square where we had yet another surprising musical encounter. Two musicians were performing in front of the Presbytère museum. One musician was on a drum kit while the other was playing the kora, a west African stringed instrument that sounds like a harp. I had never encountered the kora before and it was an interesting performance that highlighted the wonderful cultural diversity of New Orleans.

10 pound rifled artillery.

Friday was our last full day in New Orleans, and we started out by visiting the Confederate Civil War Museum. It was small but packed full of weapons and various personal artifacts that humanized the soldiers and brought the Civil War to life. Several Louisiana units also received special attention.

Afterwards, we rode the trolley out to the Garden District and eventually arrived at Loyola and Tulane Universities. We stepped into the beautiful and massive Holy Name of Jesus cathedral which is located in between the two schools. It was a quiet and peaceful moment of reflection. The two beautiful campuses are located right across from Audubon Park.

The park was gorgeous and peaceful. It was filled with southern live oak trees that dipped their limbs down towards the ground. Some of them live for hundreds of years. The park was filled with ducks and turtles too. It was a peaceful and relaxing place. On the way back to the hotel, we took the trolley and looked at the decadent homes that lined St. Charles Avenue.

I wanted to have at least one slightly upscale and adventurous meal before we left and Cochon was on at the top of my list. My dad wanted to go back to the restaurant where we had lunch earlier on Friday, but my uncle Dave helped me gently persuade him to give Cochon a try. It was an amazing way to end the trip. The entire restaurant smelled like a smoky palace and the wonderful aroma stayed on my clothes until I got back to Cincinnati and did my laundry. I ordered the beef brisket with horseradish potato salad and split a boucherie plate with uncle Dave that had pork shoulder, pork check, pate, head cheese, intestines, and pickles. I tried it all and loved most of it. The pate was good, and the head cheese was very spicy. The pork cheek was delicious and salty, but the intestines weren’t really my thing. They were pretty chewy and didn’t have much flavor. My dad surprised me by ordering a boucherie plate as his main dish! I really appreciate that he was willing to try something new with me. The brisket was amazing – very smoky and flavorful.

Although I was sad to leave New Orleans, I also felt encouraged. When I was first diagnosed with cancer, because time felt so precious I felt the urgent need to accomplish things that I had left undone. I was worried that I might fall back into my old inertia-driven habits as the prognosis became more optimistic. New Orleans was an initial victory and proved that I can follow through with my new priorities. Because I was a Francophile, I had always wanted to visit New Orleans but never took the initiative to actually do it until after my diagnosis. There is a lot more that I want to accomplish and it feels good to get the ball rolling. Next stop Paris!

New Orleans was a relaxing break and a great distraction from dwelling on my diagnosis, job search, and anxieties over my personal relationships. It was very refreshing and invigorating!

The trip was also great because it was such a good family experience. My dad and uncle Dave went with me. I am extremely lucky to have my family that will help me fulfill me dreams. My dad and uncle Dave helped me plan and finance the trip. I was a little worried about spending so much time together and was afraid that we might butt heads over what to do, but it was very fun. I haven’t taken a family vacation for years and never one with uncle Dave. During the trip, I got to hear lots of interesting family stories, especially about my paternal grandparents who are now both deceased. I learned that grandpa Glasser flunked pilot school during WWII because he hit another plane during a landing exercise. I also found out that my dad ate reindeer hearts while at a conference in Sweden!

The only regret I have from the trip is not visiting Mid City Rock and Bowl or partaking in a crawfish boil. I’m not sure I’d like crawfish, but I want to try it in the spirit of living my new life without regrets. I have a three-month checkup later this month and it looks like the results should be positive. I think it would be a fitting celebration to partake in the weekly crawfish boil at BrewRiver Gastro Pub. Perhaps I can recruit a few friends to participate with me!

I’ve talked about how invaluable family and friends have been during this process, and it’s still true. Rev. Mitra and members at St. John’s Unitarian Universalist Church have also been very supportive. I’ve also talked about my experience with Cross Fit before, but I’m revisiting it today because I just finished competing in the 2017 Open.

I started Cross Fit when I lived in Pittsburgh last year and I joined Cross Fit Blue Ash when I returned to Cincinnati. It has been a great source of continuity during the last three months as I began my treatment for stage four lung cancer. Cross Fit provided a respite by giving me an hour each day where I couldn’t think about anything but finishing the workout. If you missed my initial post about Cross Fit you can read it here.

I decided to participate in the 2017 Open, even though I was afraid of embarrassing myself. The Open is the first stage of the Cross Fit Games and any athlete can participate. The competition spans five weeks and each week a new workout is announced. Participants must report their scores online and are ranked according to how quickly they finish the workout or by how many repetitions they complete.

I’ve never been very fast or strong, so even before I was diagnosed with cancer my performance probably would have been mediocre at best. Ten days before the 2017 Open began, I underwent thryoplasty in order to restore my voice.  Afterwards, the doctor told me to avoid any strenuous activity, including Cross Fit, for 10 days. So, my first day back at the gym would be the first day of the 2017 Open. That really put me behind the eight ball but I decided to go through with it. The workout for 17.1 featured an increasingly difficult progression of dumbbell snatches and burpee box jump-overs.

I really struggled with the scaled 35 pound dumbbell snatches, and I only managed 122 reps during the 20 minute time limit. I was sore for days, but I came back for the next Open workout.

17.2 included a 12 minute AMRAP (As Many Rounds as Possible) workout with 50-foot weighted walking lunges, 16 knee raises, and 8 power cleans. I couldn’t even manage the scaled version of 35 pound lunges so I ended up doing 15 pounds instead. Even then, I only completed 78 reps before time ran out. For days after, my knees were raw from rubbing against the ground.

The gym had organized four different teams that all competed against each other and talked trash, good naturedly, on a Facebook page. Most members finished the workouts during the gym’s “Friday Night Lights” event each week. Everyone brought food and cheered each other on as they sweated and strained.

Until 17.3, I had done the workouts during morning sessions at Cross Fit Blue Ash. Steve Hollowell and Sam Spice dedicated the “Friday Night Lights” session for 17.3 to me, and their effort was very moving. Steve had already paid for wristbands that honored me. They even created a flyer for the event that featured a true-to-life photograph of my amazing physique.

I had originally planned to be out of town the night of the 17.3 “Friday Night Lights” session, but I could hardly skip an event held in my honor. For most people, the workout was over quickly because few athletes, myself included, made it past the first checkpoint at 8 minutes. It featured a progression of increasingly difficult jumping pull-ups and squat snatches. The weight on the squat snatches quickly increased from 45 to 75 pounds, which overpowered me. I lack the stability and strength for heavy overhead lifts, and I was only able to complete two of the heavier squat snatches, even though Steven, my team captain, was cheering me on.

In addition, my parents and brother also attended the 17.3 “Friday Night Lights” event and talked to Steven after. My parents were terrified that I might hurt myself at Cross Fit or somehow damage my voice. But as time was running out, I looked up at my mom as I got ready to try one final squat snatch. I had to summon all my strength and concentration, but I managed to do it. My mom’s face burst into joy and pride as I lifted the barbell above my head. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her be so exhilarated before. It was great to have them there, and I think it also made Cross Fit seem less threatening and dangerous to my parents.

In the end, I only managed a paltry 45 reps, but from then on I made sure I went to the “Friday Night Lights” event. Afterwards, many of the participants went to the Firehouse Grill in Blue Ash. It was a great opportunity to get to know some of the other athletes, especially those whom I never saw in class.

The workout for 17.4 included sets of 55 deadlifts, wallballs, rowing, and hand-release pushups. However, I only made it half-way through the rowing for a total of 134 reps. My lower back was sore for days, and when I repeated the workout the following Monday, my score was even lower.

The final workout, 17.5, was a timed competition that called for 10 rounds, each with 9 thrusters and 35 single-unders with a jump rope. Thrusters are one of my least favorite lifts and 17.5 was no exception. I only managed to do half the workout on the scaled 65-pound requirement, although I did do well when it came to single-unders. I eventually finished just shy of 20 minutes.

Most of the participants again went out to Firehouse Grill after the workout was finished, and I enjoyed socializing. I know it’s a crude measurement, but during the last few months the number of connections I have on Facebook has grown from about 100 to more than 170, and many of the new friends are people I met at the gym.

I finished the 2017 Open with a ranking of approximately 11,000 – hardly a great accomplishment. But I did finish, which many people keep telling me is a great victory in itself. However, it was frustrating and humbling to see other athletes, even those much older than me, record much better performances.

The end of the 2017 Open was bittersweet. I will miss the challenge and competition it inspired, but I won’t be sad to return to regular Cross Fit workouts (which are challenging enough on their own). Again, I am extremely grateful for what the athletes and coaches at Cross Fit Blue Ash have done for me, and I plan to continue strengthening my connection the Cross Fit Blue Ash community in the months to come. I also hope to improve my performance at the 2018 Open.

According to the Ohio State University’s James Cancer Center, “there is no such thing as a routine cancer.” In my case, I’m amazed by how quickly my life is returning to “normal.”

It’s been almost three months since I was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. I’ve undergone radiation therapy for my brain tumors and have begun treatment for the seven-centimeter tumor in my lungs. In another month, I’ll have some follow-up scans to see whether or not the treatment has been effective. I’ll probably never be in remission, but hopefully the drugs will stop the tumors from expanding and perhaps even reduce them. Everything seems to indicate that the results next month will be satisfactory.

As shocking as the diagnosis was, I haven’t had it too bad really. Of course, the month that I was on steroids to reduce the swelling in my brain was pretty unpleasant, and I couldn’t drive for awhile. I’ve also gone through some painful operations, but I recovered quickly. The only complaint I really have right now is that I can’t drink alcohol, but that’s a minor inconvenience. I’ve met people whose situations are a lot worse than mine. All I have to do is take a pill at night.

In fact, sometimes I even forget that I have cancer because I can do almost everything I did before my diagnosis. I hope I don’t live to regret these words, but so far things haven’t been too bad, all things considered. I’m not doing chemotherapy and I haven’t had any serious operations, such as brain surgery. When I was diagnosed, I had this image in my mind of what cancer “should” be like. I expected weeks of terrible chemotherapy treatments and a major reduction in my quality of life, if only temporarily. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I wish that’s how things had gone, but it does feel sometimes like my situation is somehow less authentic and that I don’t really have much to gripe about. At some point in the future, new tumors might form or the drugs might stop working, but right now, the outlook is pretty positive.

Ever since I was diagnosed, I’ve been impatient to get my “old” life back and I’ve already almost got it, or at least something very close to it. I started looking for a job a few weeks ago and already had an interview. I also went on my first date since my last relationship ended about eight months ago. It might be premature and overly optimistic, but it seems like this whole ordeal might be more of a speed-bump rather than a major breakdown. Everything might change next month, but it seems like I’m going to have a relatively normal life again pretty soon. I’m incredibly lucky that the cancer was discovered soon enough that it could still be treated. I’m also very fortunate that there’s a specific drug that targets my mutated cancer cells.

Perhaps it was my own ignorance, but I never thought stage four lung cancer could be so easily contained. For that I’m very grateful. I suppose popular media might have contributed to my perception of treatment cancer as an acute and destructive battle. For many people, that’s unfortunately the truth, but I’m learning that cancer can be a chronic, low-intensity conflict that grinds on for your entire life. I don’t want it to sound like I’m boasting about how easy I have it. I hope my story can give hope to others enduring a similar situation or sheds light on the many different ways individuals can experience cancer.

This whole ordeal began with what I thought was a temporary case of laryngitis in November 2016. For the last two and a half months, I’ve been isolated and frustrated as I dealt with my limited ability to speak. At one point in December 2016, I was reduced to writing everything down on paper in a desperate attempt to “save” my voice. I also had to pound on the walls of the house in order to get my parent’s attention at times. I avoided social engagements and cancelled work obligations to avoid straining my voice further. After my vocal cord was paralyzed, friends said I sounded like Christian Bale’s Batman or a film noir gangster. Although humorous, some even said they began to forget what my real voice sounded like – a horrifying proposition!

That seems to finally be at an end. I had thyroplasty on February 17, 2017, when the doctor made an incision and inserted a piece of hardened Gore-Tex that forced my paralyzed left vocal cord back into contact with my right vocal cord. A previous effort to inject medicine into my paralyzed vocal cord provided temporary relief but ultimately failed. However, the thryoplasty result should be permanent and seems to have been immediate and significant. I can already talk and it’s nearly the same as it was before the cancer diagnosis. It might take a few weeks to readjust and relearn how to speak properly using my vocal cords instead of my neck muscles. The operation resulted in a pretty ugly incision right across my neck, but hopefully it won’t leave a permanent scar.

February 17, 2017, was a long and unpleasant day. I couldn’t eat breakfast or lunch because my operation was at noon. However, I wasn’t hangry, probably because I was so tired. I’m still not sleeping well although I’m done with steroid. I was pretty resigned to the whole thing because I didn’t have much choice – either I had the operation or my voice would continue to wither. It was the third time I’d undergone surgery at the University of Cincinnati Medical Center in the last six weeks, so I was pretty inured to the whole process. However, my dad and especially my mom were very anxious. It only got worse when the nurse twice failed to start the IV in my left arm.

But, Rev. Mitra from St. John’s Unitarian Universalist Church was again a great comfort to my family. She kept us company for almost two hours while we waited. I dozed off, but Rev. Mitra distracted them by talking about how we all love cats, among other things.

Unfortunately, I was awake for the whole operation because I had to be able to speak at the end so the doctors could be sure everything had gone smoothly. Again, I was sedated but only in a “twilight” state and I remember most of what happened. The doctor used a local anesthetic where he actually made the incision. Although it didn’t hurt, I actually felt the doctor making the incision and pulling my flesh apart. In addition, he forced a thin camera down my nose and used a horrible-tasting medicine to numb the back of my throat. I still gagged when the camera hit the back of my throat. Overall, it was a pretty horrible experience, but I didn’t have much choice other than to endure it.

In the end, it was worth it. It marks the end of almost three months of isolation and frustration. I had numerous frustrating phone conversations when doctors called to schedule or confirm appointments and they were unable to understand me. In frustration, I often flung the phone to my parents and had them deal with the situation. I also work as a freelance writer so I had to conduct my interviews via email instead of over the phone, which led to unsatisfying results. I also felt left out of conversations, although most people said they didn’t have any trouble understanding me in person. Speaking wasn’t painful, but it was tiring because I compensated by using my throat muscles to try and make a voice. I also got tired of explaining over and over again why I couldn’t talk. It’s been a long and exhausting process, but I hope this is this beginning of the end. The only downside is that I’m banned from Cross Fit for the next week or so, but I’m willing to make just about any sacrifice at this point.

I’ve also had to put my job search on hold while until this was resolved, so it will be great to finally start getting my life back on track. I’m working on an alternative/temporary teaching license but nobody would hire a teacher who can’t speak. Now, I can start applying for positions for next year and hopefully start lining up some interviews. Although there’s been a temporary setback in my cancer treatment (I had to stop my medication because it was damaging my liver), it’s great to finally speak again. I always took my voice for granted, but I hope this experience has ensured I’ll never do that again.