Having written about politics for a few days, I thought I'd switch to something more uplifting, like cancer.  I am into the third week since my last five-hour chemo treatment and I'm actually beginning to feel almost like I once did.  The poisons are beginning to wear off, I am not collapsing into bed in the middle of the day and my fervent hope is that I never have to go through this again.   Of course, it brings up a philosophical question:  What if I do have to go through it again and how am I going to handle that?  The first time you really don't know what to expect so you deal with it on a day by day, night by night basis.  I hope that while they are looking for a cancer cure, they are also looking for more benign ways to treat it.  Without going into great detail, it suffices to say I would not wish cancer and its treatment on a politician. Now that it seems I can get back to a normal life and, at least for the moment, I am considered disease free, I have given way to reflection.  I am in a stage I would call "disbelief."  I want to believe it never happened, that it was all a bad dream, but then I look in the mirror.  Yes, I really did have cancer.  Yes, all my hair really did fall out.  Yes, I did go through radiation and chemotherapy.  I wish I hadn't, but I did.   I have discovered the "aftermath" is a whole new phase in the evolution of dealing with cancer.  It is amazing how many of my friends have had cancer and I did not know it.  They confide in me now about how long ago they went through treatment, five, eight, ten, 12 years. At this point I can only say three weeks.