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It's a strange feeling to watch my nurse hang a tiny bag of clear liquid, dripping from the top of my IV pole into a machine that carefully pushes the toxic chemical through the clear tube that leads straight into my heart. Chemotherapy is my new addition to this long journey to kill cancer. Lucky me, I am given two types of chemo to kill off my entire immune system, my cancerous bone marrow and to make clear for my donor's stem cells. I can't feel it being pumped into my heart, but I am prepped myself, knowing that it's going to kick my ass in the next day or two. Its effects will continue to do so, until the lack of an immune system will overpower it and take over with nausea, fatigue, mouth sores, esophagus and stomach sores, fever, headache, and the list goes on. Sounds like a vacation in paradise.
I have agonized over what I will feel like, how I will tolerate this state of misery, to no end. I am not quite sure how one prepares to feel like total crap. Typically, I like to think of the worst possible situation and when the worst comes, it won't seem that bad, but I have a funny feeling that the worst might be...worse. This is my life, though. This is my fight. I have cried today watching the first few drops of chemo find its way into my heart. I have watched my family witness the same thing. I do not want to die. I love them. I love my son. I love living life with all of my heart and soul and, as God as my witness, I want to continue to do so. One step at a time. One minute at a time, if need be. There is literally no turning back now and I have to stay strong. I am a fighter. Comments are closed.
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August 2013
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