Today marked the one week point since my first treatment. I went back for labwork, and everything looks good. My symptoms are minimal other than bone-deadening fatigue at times. And I am thankful.
Every time I walk into the cancer center it is like a punch in the face or the stomach; I haven’t decided which. There is so much sadness in that waiting area. So many older people who look as if they have no reason to go on. They are tired, they are gray, they are weak. I struggle because, in my mind, I don’t belong here. I am young, I am vibrant, I am strong. And I realize that as my chemo progresses, I will become more tired, more gray, and more weak… I cannot bear the looks of pity and sometimes shock that radiate across people’s faces when I walk into the lobby and sit. Reality is not easy to grasp sometimes.
