As I write I listen to the steady hum of my IV pumping the drugs into my body. The drugs that will knock me on my ass for the week and leave me curled up in the fetal position praying for the pain to pass, the same drugs that will save my life. It’s such a strange dualism, this dying to live.
All I have found to make it all bearable is gratitude, for EVERYTHING. I’m grateful to be here, in this chair listening to the IV, receiving these drugs. I’m grateful for my bald head, a sure sign that the chemo is doing its job. These days I find that everything, good or bad, is a gift, because I’m here to take it all in.
“You can be broken, or broken open. That choice is yours.” Erica Bauermeister in Joy for Beginners.
