Cycle two surprised me. It was a lot harder than
the first cycle in many ways, but mostly it dragged on for what seemed like
forever. They unhooked me from the IV pole (the pole I'm attached to 24/7 that
holds all the drugs and fluids) at around 9:30pm on Wednesday night. Then I
watched the clock tick until my discharge papers arrived and my dad brought me
home. There was no way I could spend another night in the hospital. I needed
outta there! I spent Thursday recovering mostly in bed, but on Friday I started
to perk up again just in time for my boys’ school Halloween parties. I’m not
sure what was the greater incentive: getting to wear my purple wig and witch
hat or getting out and about.
Though hours can’t pass quickly enough while I’m
in the hospital, I’m glad my chemotherapy is administered as an inpatient. My
private room on the oncology floor is such a surreal environment away from everything
I deem normal. Then the moment I’m released, my norm returns. I am fully on board
with the ultimate goal here: prevent cancer’s return; chemotherapy is just the
messenger, cancer is the real culprit. Though chemo was the source of my
extreme discomfort for three days this week, I can’t blame it for making me feel weak and disheartened. My cancer diagnoses attempted
to do that a long time ago. It’s my job to rise to the occasion and face the
ugly truth of what it really looks and feels like to fight cancer. Chemotherapy
is just doing what it’s supposed to do, kill bad cells; it’s only trying to
help.
It is truly amazing how the human body recovers
from such experiences. I am grateful that just a few days later I feel so much better. It does not hurt that Alex nor Dean blinked an eye at my absence
and welcomed me home as if I never left. They had my parents here to fill the love
gap while I was gone; to whom I could never shower with enough gratitude. As fortunate as I am to be close to my sister, I am equally fortunate to be close to my
parents. They prove time and time again that the love for one’s child really
does span a lifetime. I love you, Mom and Dad.
Love,
Sareana
