I’m trying to download the last video I took prior to my chemotherapy.
I looked so good. I was feeling good.
I had serious misgivings about receiving my treatment. I signed off apologizing that I may be unable to keep up for a while.
In hindsight, why did I take it?
The dosage had been decreased due to my sensitivities. I talked to Marc and Anna and I trust them with my life decisions.
Looking back, I just wonder why I keep accepting treatments that my gut says I shouldn’t take.
I think I take them because it’s the path of least resistance.
Alyea and Gautier take good care of me. They’ve been tinkering with therapies for a lot longer than I have. I’m just too tired to search elsewhere unless it’s absolutely necessary.
And I know I can take a hit.
I just keep taking them, rolling over, and climbing back up to where I was at.
I know easier, less caustic therapies exist.
I know vaccines and hyperthermic treatment and even a new radiation therapy that has been 100% effective in trails exist.
Why can’t I get one of those?
Hopefully, this is all a mute point.
I’m rooting for scenario #1.
The terrible chemo regimen that’s beat me up so badly has worked (it has), and will continue to work (unlike all the other ones, just because I want it to), I’ll heal relatively quickly (alongside my sister, when she’s in good shape from having Preston, I’ll be in good shape from having my lung slit), and then I’ll go to Boston and get my Donor Lymphocyte Infusion quickly and efficiently.
I’ll get some raging graft vs. host disease but I’ll be able to manage it symptomatically.
Then I can go on being the alpha nurse, soccer mom I thought I was going to be.
Yes, I’m going back to being that woman, the jaw set, eye on the prize, determined one, because somewhere between diagnosis and now I have definitely become a woman.
It’s just going to take a while.