After that first week of chemotherapy where side effects and exhaustion kept me mainly in bed, I expected to recover this week with a hearty rebound.

Well, that didn't happen.

But I did get better, and I was able to eat with abandon (though the chicken burritos on Wednesday set me back a little).  I've regained 9 of the 12 pounds I lost in the first week.
(see, I do have skills).

I returned to work Thursday morning. Didn't last until noon, I was so lethargic.

I headed toward the Sundale Country Club where I had to decide if I was going to be able to play in the club championship this weekend.

I rented a cart. Didn't know if I could play two, or six, or nine or even 18 holes. For the past 11 days, I had had no exercise at all.

I parred the first hole.

Drive was straight but not that far. I thought I hit a good second shot (used an extra club, but it wasn't enough).  Hit a tricky sand wedge to 3 feet and sunk the putt.

I was swinging and there was fresh air and it was good. (well the 7th hole was a disastrous 8 cuz it took 3 to get out of a wet and hard sand trap)

So I finished with a 43 after nine. Not horrible considering the 7th hole.

And then I kept going. And before it was done, I birdied four of the 9 holes for an even-par 36. And I was thrilled.

(disclaimer: the club is reseeding the tee boxes so the temporary tees were at the senior citizen level.)

But the point is, the round -- one of the most phenomenal I've ever played in my life -- was therapeutic. It felt like I went to the doctor and got better.

My nurse, Renee, tells me the chemo is still at work in me and will probably dissipate by the end of next week. Just in time for a second round on Oct. 22.  That's a second round of chemo.

I''ll be playing a second round of golf before then. I want to get better and I'm not going to argue with the best therapy on the planet.