It's not really that I am happy with my solitude. I just don't have to be anybody else right now. Tinker, tailor, soldier, thief and the many faces of Eve.

Fear not young one, for I am truly here.

I feel like I am slowly disappearing...I hurt....I am sad....I am dying...I AM TOO YOUNG.

Acceptance? Of what exactly? What am I accepting?

chronic illness

loneliness

depression

failure

relief....

I rest.  A lot.

More of life is spent resting than doing. I "do" resting.  I want to go out and join a gym. I HATE gyms.

And the pressure to BE who you are "supposed" to be...why does this exist?

R-E-L-A-X.     

Oi.

When your platelets bottom out you get bruises on your legs the size of house cats.
All from merely glancing off the coffee table.

Really glad this isn't cottage season.

Okay. Let's talk about this. I have cancer. I hate it. Duh. I have been in constant treatment for three years now. My life has been hijacked by a clump of mindless cells frantically driven to reproduce faster than a catholic Irish family at the turn of the century. Way fast. 0 to 60 in seconds flat fast. Not good.

And I resent them. Loath them. However "they" have chosen to take up residence inside my body. Nice.

I can hardly remember what it was like not to have cancer. To have a least one day every once in a while that is mindlessly carefree. Nothing HUGE lurking on the sidelines ready to undermine your entire life at a moments notice. I wish for that. I find it so hard to focus on moving forward when I have no idea if I'll be here when I get there. You get the idea.

I am on a trial. And it's a trial. Low platelets (27!) had me in emerge on a Friday night around midnight...really really nice time to be in emerge...full moon, the works. Lovely. They've lowered the dose as a result ("Brivanib", Bristol-Myers Squibb, phase I trial) and now the doubts about it's efficacy surface about every half hour. It's bloody exhausting.

But what I think is, if this doesn't work, what then? WHAT THEN???

I'm tired.

The intervening years have been....

I have returned anew, bit battered, still fighting, not out of the ring by any stretch.

Fatigue is my constant companion. I cannot imagine what the labyrinth of my body interior looks like after what is has been subjected to...not pink and shiny I should imagine.

Onwards into the fray.