Chemo Day

Today was my third of eight rounds of chemo.

First came the ultrasound, to make sure the chemo is working. The ultrasound doctor that I have seen several times over the years, the one that seems to feel guilty that he didn't see this three years ago, could not stop smiling, could not stop shaking his head, could not stop trying to measure little bits of dissipating tumors. He found four or five bits, and he measured them, none of them were over a centimeter. "This is really good, this is really good." I want to hug him, he wants to hug me, but it is not the right place, as I have goop all over my breasts which are covered by little washcloths. I will make a point to find him, and hug him, and thank him for a job well done...the next time I see him with my clothes on.

Chemo was good today, I ordered up a ham and cheese sandwich and a cup of beer cheese soup, then I took a nice little nap while the drugs slipped in. I have learned to make hay while the sun shines, or rather to eat when I can. I now know that the next two days will be OK, and that the following five or six days will be rough... and that the three or four days next will feel like "finally recovering from something awful, and that the two days before my next chemo I will feel good, I will make lots of yummy food, including brownies with lots of walnuts and I will eat, and my mouth will not hurt, and my tummy will feel good, and I will sleep well.

Maybe one of the hardest things about chemo is accepting each day as it comes...and not thinking about the days to come. Be here now.

So to anyone who has gotten this far in my writings... know that I love you, and I feel your love and I KNOW that your love is more powerful that chemo or cancer. XXOO