Day 3 (Wednesday, 11-10-2010)

I get out of bed. I momentarily forget that I'm attached...

..attached to a relentless pumping of 5FU into my blood stream..whirr, click...whirr, click..

I hide the bag under my pillow so I won't hear it at night..

..still hear it.......cat thinks it's her new "friend"..


Today is "get that out of me" day...The bag and pump have been my constant companion for the last two days...filling my body with yummy chemotherapy goodness.....yeah..

One night, I pulled on the tubing (thinking it was something else)...not a good idea..

It's a 46 hour process, so that means that I have to wait until six-thirty tonight to be rid of it..

..another day..another blur....

it's 6:30, here's David with purple (sterile) gloves, syringes and bandaids...

routine by now: remove bag..inject saline, inject heparin...pull the inch-long needle out of my chest-port..

I'M FREE!!!

Showers are once again a possibility (and a joy)..

I can't wait to have treatment 12 finished.. (I think this all the time)..

Then, the port can come out and I will be free of this cancer stuff...

and I will stay strong...


Do I ever think maybe I'll lose this fight.....do I think what if I don't get better.....do I have awful scary moments that consume the light and breath and sound and.. feel I'm somehow grown apart from the rest of society, humanity...apart from the healthy ones..


Yeah sure, everyone does.  


My husband calls me an Amazon warrior..He says he is in awe of my strength, courage and endurance..
He weeps to see me weakened by this onslaught..he says we are in this together...and so we are...


I reassure him that it will all turn out alright...


I am strong! I will stay strong!


Watch me....