Chemotherapy: Day One

I’m just home from my first chemotherapy infusion. I crawled into bed because I’m tired and I’m not sure what else to do with myself and because it’s warm and safe in here and because I can. Annie is getting the kids and shuttling them to after school commitments, so I have a little quiet, which is nice.IMG_0004

I feel so much more solid today than yesterday. I’m less sore from the port, plus not emotionally fragile and quiet. It was oddly nice to feel the way I did yesterday—to feel. Not that I’m not feeling things, but as I’ve written before, sometimes it all feels too normal.

Though I did register at the chemo center (chair #4) that this whole thing is f—ing surreal: Who am I to be getting chemo therapy?! But here I am, and it is strangely normal now, my new normal, and I continue to feel strangely okay with it. Like, “This is what’s before me now, so this is what I’m doing, one foot in front of the next.”

I am eager to get more answers, this time about how I respond to chemo, when my good and bad days will be, what I’ll be fine to manage on my own, what I’ll want to eat and do and not eat and not do. I feel hyper aware, waiting to feel something, anything, wondering whether every sensation is something or nothing.

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