03/04/16-Bed: The days wash over me like the sea washes over the pebbles along the shore.
And just as the relentless, repetitive action of the salt water erodes away the roughness of the pebble leaving it smooth and round and uniform, so the relentless, repetitive action of the chemotherapy erodes away a little more of the edges and angles that are me, leaving me flat and empty.
Emotionally I find I have little left.
I never feel like I’m fighting cancer but I definitely feel like I’m battling the treatment and I guess that’s because I am.
The treatment is designed to kill my cells, the cancerous ones of course but inevitably healthy ones too and so with each infusion administered, my body is at war and little parts of me, too tiny to see with the naked eye, are dying.
Whilst on the surface all appears calm, underneath deep down inside, chaos reigns.
I feel broken down.
Now that I can actually see the end of this part of my treatment I find I’m limping towards the finish line.
I’m so very tired.
The closer the end gets, the slower I become, the further away that finishing line appears to be and some days I fear I will never arrive at the end, that somehow it will remain forever, always just beyond my reach.