I am five days post chemo number two.  Much like last time, I was semi-functional on day one and two.  Day three and four were absolutely hellacious.  I slept off and on for a whole day and my Aunt Abbi said wisely that is G-d’s way of helping me through it. 

My pain threshold is gone.  I cry easily these days.  This morning, I was in bed crying and Trent sat down with me.  This is what he said,

“Get behind me and hold onto my shirt.  Hold on tight.  I’m taller than you and I can see over all of this stuff and I see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Follow me and we’ll get through it.”

My spirit has been beaten up this round.  I cannot see my way out.  I see chemo and more chemo and pain and hair loss and ugh, just, shit.  I have no idea how I am lucky enough to have found a love such as the one Trent and I share.  I don’t think many women ever get to hear the one they love and trust most in the world say words as comforting to them as the words Trent said to me this morning. 

So right now, I’m not feeling so well.  I’m holding on tight to the back of Trent’s shirt.  I’m squinting my eyes to see up ahead to the light he promises me is there.  It is there, of course.  And I’m going to hold onto that shirt as long as I need to until I see it too.