It's Getting Hard, Folks

Those of you who are very close to me have heard me complaining a bit more lately. Chemo is killing me, figuratively speaking, of course. Because ironically, it's the only thing that has saved my life. I'm coming to a point where I start thinking about my chemo Tuesday and dread it. Yesterday I found myself driving to pick up Jude from school with tears in my eyes at the thought of walking into that infusion clinic. I can almost feel the nausea setting in. Oh, wait. It never left. I can feel the deep bone aches and chills I get a week out from treatment. I can feel the spacey and speed-like ditzyness I get on my anti-nausea meds. I can almost feel the lack of immune system as these drugs decimate my white bloods cells. And you know what? I started itching again. It's muted greatly compared to when I was first diagnosed, but it's an unexplained itch. And if the cancer is truly out of my body, then I shouldn't be itching at all, right? What does that mean, you might ask? I really can't think too much about a relapse at this point because I might just curl up in the corner and have an emotional breakdown.

So, for those of you who see me in the next month during my last treatments, I need encouragement. I need to know that I can handle more weeks of nausea and fatigue and inability to keep up with my four sweet children. It's harder now in many ways than it ever has been up to this point. I see the end, but I don't feel it. And with cancer, you never know if more treatment or derailments are right around the corner. Be praying for me in every way possible.