MotherF@$KER

I’m so tired. Blood draws; interrupted sleep schedules; constant upset stomach from chemotherapy. It’s all so much. I don’t want to be positive today. I want to crawl into my bed and cry until somebody makes it all go away.

I went to the oncologist today and before the doctor sees you they draw blood in the chemotherapy bay.

I can’t think of any place louder. There is a constant whir of IV pumps pushing chemo through arms, legs, abdomens, and just about every other body part. The constant whir is only interrupted by a chorus of beeps and chirps of machines warning of air bubbles, bags run dry, or some other problem causes a mechanical warning.

Beep, ting, boop, tang and on, and on, to a dissonant unsettling cacophony that reminds you that several weeks ago this world didn’t exist. The sound seems to belong in some yet unproduced horror film, where machines take control of our internal organs and hold us hostage.

It was too much today.

I looked and saw the sick and realized I am one of them. I’m 30 pounds lighter than April 1^st. It scares the shit out of me!

I hadn’t slept much last night. Maybe that’s why the impact of it all was so hard. I guess what really makes this hard is that this is only day 15 of this chemo with only about 147 days left to go for the total course of treatment.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph help me.

I’ll feel better tomorrow,

Love,

Bill