I have to keep reminding myself that chemotherapy is going to save my life.
Because I certainly felt like it was going to kill me over the weekend. How is it possible that something that can make me so sick is the only tool at hand to battle my type of cancer?
As of Friday, I was feeling a tad cocky thinking I'd dodged the worst of chemo hell. It took the weekend to show me how wrong I was.
I find myself wondering if I can really take 16 weeks of this. Of course I can. I'm stronger than I think. There are much sicker people in the world. Right.
I see people out living their lives, healthy people. And I'm actually jealous. That they have the energy to be out in the world. That they are healthy. That they don't have CANCER.
How petty is that of me? I would never wish this on anyone. But I sure wish I didn't have cancer.
Which brings us back to the point here. That chemo is likely going to save my life.
Right?
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