Highs and lows

Just because I write it on pretty paper doesn't make it feel better.

This last weekend has been hard. Initially I thought I was going to get away with it - the Hickman Line seemed to take away so many of the horrible side-effects of the chemo. By Sunday, though, I had realised that it wasn't going to stay that way and I've spent the last couple of days finding every little bit of strength that I have left.

Realistically, I know that I am lucky. There are plenty of people who would love to be in my situation. People who haven't had treatment, people whose treatment hasn't worked, people who are in far worse states than I am right now. I am working my way through my sixth cycle of chemo and there are people I know who have had ten times that number, and yet still carry on.

This blog was never supposed to be about cancer, but it's hard not to make it so at the moment. It feels like my cancer and my treatment is all that is happening to me right now. Everything I do revolves around it. My journal pages for the last few days are mostly just some very self-absorbed ramblings about how bad I feel, because it would be dishonest to put anything else.

I try to stay grateful. I try to stay focused. I try my hardest to stay strong because I know I am not the only person on this journey. Most of the time I think I do a pretty good job. But it is going to take more than some pretty papers to make me feel ok this time.