There is something poetic about starting a new journey in Fort Worth, Texas, where the old meets the new and where my first round of treatment began. Think about all the sons of cattlemen who drove cattle to “The Big City” for the first time, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. While my original plan was to receive treatment at UT Southwestern Dallas, there were no available slots to start last week, and everyone was urging me to start treatment as soon as possible. Still, the Fort Worth facility was an unexpected blessing with an opening and freshly renovated facilities.

As a tech guy, I couldn’t help but appreciate their attention to detail, with the first infusion room numbering starting at “0” instead of “1”, just as God intended numbering to work. These little things made me smile, even on treatment day. My dad and I had driven in the day before, playing it safe with the possible icy weather forecast. A night at the Hampton Inn gave me time to rest, even if my 4:30 AM wake up call came from my own anticipation rather than an alarm clock.

The medical team accessed my newly placed chest port (just 5 days old and still tender) for bloodwork at 8:30 AM, and once everything checked out, I was directed to infusion room 7. Over the next five hours, my body received a carefully orchestrated combination of Docetaxel, Trastuzumab, Pertuzumab, and Carboplatin. Besides a brief 10-minute wave of discomfort that rippled through my body, the treatment went surprisingly smoothly.

A wise friend recently gave me perspective-changing advice: “Stop calling it your cancer. It’s not yours. It doesn’t belong in you. Quit claiming it.” He’s absolutely right, and this isn’t my cancer, it’s an uninvited guest that we’re evicting. The pain I feel around the tumor area now? That’s just the eviction notice being served.

This Sunday afternoon counts as the completion of day four post-infusion. While there’s some weakness, general discomfort, sinus pain, stomach upset, and a general “ick,” I’m staying focused on what matters: Jesus, work I missed last week, research on what is going on inside my body, planning nutrient-rich meals, and time with my kids.

This journey isn’t just about treatment. It’s about transformation. Each day brings new challenges but also new opportunities to demonstrate resilience. Tomorrow is indeed a new day, one filled with purpose, hope, and the joy of being.