I remember when my weeks were filled with a different doctor's appointment every day, when my job was to do my treatment and to be at the right waiting room at the right time. I remember the hours of sitting and thinking, too drugged to read or follow a tv show, too tired to care how the 30 minute fiasco ended. I remember thinking how lucky I'd been just to be able to walk around at one point in my life NOT attached to an i.v. pole, and how mad I was at myself that I had not appreciated it.
I remember the exhaustion of just making the decision to get out of bed that day, the shooting pain in my heels as I walked to the bathroom each morning. I remember the nausea and the fatigue and the hell I thought I'd never get through. I remember a year of treatment turning into 3 years of recovery.
Five years later, I have a job that I (mostly) love, where I spend way too much time. I work out almost every day again, have hobbies, stay too busy, paint, read, travel, see my friends often, and have cocktails over lots of laughs. Daily, I am finding myself doing things I used to miss doing- running, dancing, shopping, playing, wearing awesome clothes, and going out with friends.
And so to see my friends with my same disease go through hell, retreat back to a life of endless scripts and pharmacies, tests, phone calls, exams and treatments, decisions about chemo and surgery and radiation and clinical trials- it's sometimes too much to have to process.
And so I dedicate this to my peeps still going through it all and those that I don't even know who are fighting the same battle, too. I lift you up with waves of peaceful thoughts. I send healing vibes your way.
And I cherish my seconds, my minutes, and my days of freedom in honor of you.