but just barely.
It’s been a trip, no a journey. I reacted extremely badly to my first chemo treatment and ended up in the hospital two days later with an extremely compromised immune system.
Every time I moved my head, great hanks of hair fell out. I collected it in a bag, I don’t know why.
I’ve had my second session of chemo, and I seem to be taking it better. But doing the things that I absolutely have to do takes a toll on me. I am tired. I am often cold. I am depressed as I watch what my treatment is doing to my family.
One day, I will be gone, and so will their financial stability. They reassure me over and over that having me for one more day is worth any financial price. It’s just money, after all. The guilt is overwhelming at times.
I wish I could put a happier, braver face on this. The fact is, sometimes circumstances suck.
I want to thank everyone who has sent me e-mails and not forgotten me. I’m sorry for not answering sooner. This is the first I’ve been on a computer, instead of my limited Ipod.
The Big C 
I’m glad to hear from you again! Actually, I do understand why you kept your hair for some obscure reason even though I have never been through the experience. It seems like something I would do myself…. we females have a very personal relationship with our hair.
Take care, and of the hair too. =)
hi my friend… i hate that this is happening to you… i wish i had some words of comfort or wisdom… please just know that coach & i are praying for you and your family daily. we lift you all up… i can imagine the guilt you are feeling… and i figure it would be near impossible to let it go… watching your family go through their emotions, thoughts, and reactions to your illness must be difficult….
i think of you often and i wish there was more i could do for you… although i don’t know what it would be…. i pray and pray and pray for you…
i wish for you much peace and many blessings for your family
Hi dearest!
Cancer and chemo just suck. That’s all there is to it! Try to rejoice in each day you have with your precious family. I know it’s hard when you feel like carp. And know that you have sooo many people praying for you!
Love you!
I just found your blog through a listing of Catholic blogs. I am so sorry to hear of your illness and of the response you’ve had to chemotherapy. You’re right, of course, that your illness will have an impact on your family, but know that this impact can have positive effects as well as sorrowful ones.
I just went through my father’s final illness, and it drew us closer together. I also know that the support and care I gave to him made his journey easier. We had the opportunity to express how much we loved each other and how much we would miss each other. We had the opportunity to share old times; in fact, a few days before he died, many of Dad’s friends came in to see him. I was concerned he’d be exhausted, but at the end of the day he told me, “Today was exhilarating. It’s a shame some people die of a heart attack and don’t have the opportunity to do this.”
I’m not implying that there will be no sorrow. I’m not suggesting that battling advanced disease is a grand experience. But know that God will provide you with opportunities to treasure along with all the rest.
Best wishes to you. And I will pray for you!
Yes NC Sue, I agree. I’m getting the time to say goodbye. Not that this is what I’d pick for myself, but I do prefer it to a life ending accident with no chance for goodbyes.