It's been one hell of a weekend. I had chemo on Wednesday, my Neulasta injection on Thursday, IV fluids on Friday. I crawled into bed on Friday at 3pm, and I am just getting out of bed. The past 3 days have been like the worst flu in the world, times 10 billion. I go back to the oncologist today for IV fluids - it takes a village to keep this one person alive.
After all the pink, all the glamor shots of women with bald heads, all the fun cute sayings, cancer is ugly, time-consuming, all-consuming. Cancer is lonely, cancer is expensive, cancer is a burden, cancer is bone-scraping pain, cancer is cold, cancer is a fog, cancer is exhaustion, cancer is dry heaving, constipation, hunger, unpredictable. Cancer is fickle, cancer is frustrating, cancer is no focus, no drive, no desire. And though I know I will survive this journey, last night I wondered if death would be better - only because the pain was nearly unbearable.
Cancer is finding that one moment of goodness - a sister's call, a sister's gift, a meal with friends, a daughter's short visit, a friend's a card, a grand-daughter's hug, a son's prayer, a husband's warmth, and clinging to that hope -
God grant me the serenity . . .