"So, How Are You Doing?"

   "So, how are you doing?"

   It seems like a simple enough question, usually offered in a genuine heartfelt tone.  But this question takes on weird meanings when one is going through hard things.  My hard thing lately has been lymphoma and (maybe even harder) chemotherapy.  How do I explain how I am feeling when I am going through something I have previously never experienced?  How do I talk about the constant nauseous feeling and the dry "urps" that come up out of my gut but seemingly out of nowhere?  How do I describe the razor-thin line between awake and asleep and how I never really knows which state I am in other than how the state of sleep can be characterized by slightly less nausea than the state of awake?  How do I pinpoint why I am not eating, why I am not drinking, why I must but I cannot do these things?  And why does the mere thought of beer or coffee make me cringe (by the way, God -- I really want those two tastes back when I am done with this!).  And why does a walk to the mailbox seem like three days on the trail with a heavy pack?  Oh, and then I have to come in from the mailbox as well...three more days.
   But please know you may ask the question.  I am not grousing about my friends that are concerned and really are want to know some sort of progress report in to the "So, how are you doing?" category.  Please know though that quantifying and describing might just be impossible given that you have other places to be yet today and I have a nap calling out to me.

   So, how am I doing?  I am hanging in there.  I have been better and I will be again.  Right now I think I will put on my cement combat boots and waddle out to the mailbox.  I'll be back in three days.