Ken is deeply concerned about the impact of his illness on his family. He asks me sometimes to reassure him that the battle is worth fighting, not because he’s depressed (we are all grieving) but because the battle itself takes an enormous toll physically and emotionally on everyone. Being Ken, he feels responsible for the well-being of all his friends and family. And so I remind him that it would be much, much more painful — physically and emotionally devastating — if we lost him.

I know the statistics and prognosis for people with stage 4 colon cancer, having done way more research than anyone should without knowing specific details about condition and treatment (in all seriousness, although I’m a passionate advocate for being an educated patient, if you have ever been tempted to look into the treatments, side effects, blogs, support groups, etc, be wary. You will find things you won’t ever be able to forget.) Medical research without context is not useful, unless you are TRYING to scare the bejesus out of yourself.

Statistics are just data points. We focus, instead, on each day’s battle; admittedly, some days are less an organized battle and much more a series of skirmishes, as untidy and chaotic as they could be.

Tomorrow, we have an unexpected check-in with the doctor because Ken is sporting a rash on the skin around one of the tumor sites. The oncology nurse assures Ken that rashes are good news because they are generally a sign that the chemo is working. I love that we can actually laugh when the cancer team tells us stuff like that. “Ken, you may get acne on your cheeks like a teenager; we hope you do because, statistically, people who get acne after chemo have a higher rate of success with this medication.”

Today was better than many recently. Although Ken was exhausted as he is every day, we were able to have a quick family dinner (pork burgers and veggies) before he fell asleep. We even got a little library time with Ian and Haley. That might sound odd as a treat but we all find the library very peaceful, almost a sanctuary. Ian picked out a handful of comics to read before bed. (I’m trying to encourage Calvin and Hobbes but he’s currently more a fan of FoxTrot.)

I could wish for peaceful sleeping but the zombie apocalypse dreams continue. Zombie movies are the worst (except those fantastic Jiangshi movies … and maybe Sean of the Dead … and Warm Bodies … but NOT I Am Legend).  And suddenly I see why I’m dreaming of zombies instead of failed college courses. No more zombie movies.