Yesterday was round two of chemo.  I just didn’t feel emotionally ready for more. 

The last seven days have been really, really hard.  I have shaved my head, had yet another unpleasant procedure, lost a good portion of the remaining hair on the shaved head, and had chemo. 

I have cried and cried and cried some more.  Yesterday I cried for thirty minutes straight.  I looked like the screaming, crying baby girl above in every respect but for the fact that she clearly had a better hair day yesterday than I did.  It is good to cry.  It releases some of the emotional pain.  It tires me out and helps me sleep. 

I woke up early this morning.  I have nine more weeks to go of chemo.  If all goes well, I won’t have any new unpleasant things ahead other than chemo.  I have held on through biopsy, surgery, tests, scans, staging, prognosis, treatment choices, chemo, hair loss, blood tests and picc line.  After writing all that, I can’t help but think to myself, “Cry, baby, cry”.  That crying might just carry me to the other side.

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