written Oct 15 2012
It is Saturday. Monday is the first day of Chemo. Big day.
I thought anyone who fell down climbing was an idiot. Then I fell down.
I've ignored cancer...kept it farther than arms reach.
Now the damn disease is smothering me. I wake up and head to the bathroom...half way there I realise i have cancer. WTF is up with that? I'd like to put it to bed permanently.
So with one IV your life changes forever. The start of RAD and chemo. Small steps to a huge dose of poison.
If I knew the eventual outcome would I go Monday morning?
If it was anything like the dark days after my bicep surgeries likely not. Wanting to make fish food is not the place I want to go again. Then I had someone to blame, some one I wanted to hurt..give a little pay back. This time it is just good old mother nature.
A bad storm, a white out, and unplanned bivy.
But then just how had can 7 weeks be? My guess is not that bad in the grand scheme of things. I may live to regret that thought. But I'll live...for a while yet. No one gets out alive.
I keep telling my docs i am different. I have everyone around me convinced (except the docs) that I am "special". But I know the truth. I'm a coward and this shit scares me. Not the 7 weeks. Good drugs should carry me through that. It is the long term aftermath of the seven weeks. That scares me.
Fuck'um, I am different. This will be over shortly and I'll move on. I always do.
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