Today marks the start of chemo episode four of season two, and it drops me straight back into the analogy I built during season one. The one that inevitably triggers Down in a Hole by Alice in Chains, looping in my head.

Chemo feels like being kicked into a hole. The chemo monster shows up and shoves me in. It takes days of crawling, inch by inch, just to reach the surface again. And when you do, you're more battered than the last time. Most people only see me when I resurface. They don't see the bad days: living on the couch, sleeping for hours, carrying a constant exhaustion that feels like recovering from a heavy red-wine hangover.

As the sessions stack up, the pattern worsens. Each round drives you deeper. Each climb out takes longer. Each time, you emerge more worn down than before.

In season one, I didn't really feel this until episode four. My body had enough reserve to absorb the early hits. Season two is different. The hole was there from episode one because my body never fully recovered from season one. There was no reset. Just another kick, into the same hole, already deeper than before.