Chemotherapy Round 6, Day 4. December 31st, 2020.

So here I am, in a hospital bed feeling hopeless as usual. Yesterday I walked over 2550 steps and was so proud of myself, just to wake up today feeling like death. I’ve walked only 150 steps today, because I’m in physical and mental pain. I hate not knowing what I’m going to wake up the next day to. I hate worrying constantly about what’s next, or how I’m going to make it this next week since the week after chemo is always my worst. I hate what chemotherapy does to my body. And the fact that I can barely handle this, how am I going to handle a bone marrow transplant? How do I take it one day at a time when each day is so different and a new struggle. How do I maintain this? I just don’t get it. I know we all have our bad days, but my bad days are starting to out number my good days. And I hate it. How do I stop this fuel of hate for cancer that I have. That I can’t stop thinking. A year ago I was so ready to begin 2020, and was so excited for what the year would bring me. Now, I’m terrified for what 2021 is going to bring me. I don’t even want to say it’s going to be my year. I don’t want to be positive. I don’t want to say things will get better because they haven’t. And aren’t getting better. I want to be a mama again. I want to be there every day. And not have my little boy confused on where mom is. I’m his whole world, in a person. And I can’t even function well enough to be that mama. Why does this happen? Why isn’t there a reason people get this cancer? Like so many whys and what it’s lie into 2021. I don’t like the uncertainty. I’m organized and like a plan. But none of this is organized or a plan because everytime I have a plan it changes because my stupid tumor won’t cooperate! So now I wake up January 1st, in my hospital room. Alone due to covid. And then I just wait to go home, and let chemo take its course. This chemo is harsher according to my nurses. So I’m feeling worst, quicker. My whole body aches. My stomach is killing me. My appetite is nonexistent. And my hopes are low. It’s amazing how quickly a bad day can get you thinking like this. I’m hoping once my best friend comes up here, I can get a little bit of enjoyment. Some laughs, some crying out. This year both changed us, but at least we have each other. And that’s really what matters. Is who is there for you.

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