Every three weeks I hope my chemotherapy session does not land me in bed. Every three weeks it does. I call it my “Crash” time. I don’t feel so bad that I can’t have my laptop and type, though. I still ran some ads for my business, still got my granddaughter out of bed and spent an hour with her. I forced myself to get up and drink my coffee on the back porch amidst the flowers until it got too hot. I had to take a nap afterward.

I may look like hell, but I’m still smiling. It’s not that I think I am exceptional, it’s just that I refuse to let it win. Besides, one can only watch so many Lifetime movies, or do so much to keep up with the Kardashians I don’t even like television, really – there are too many other things to do in life.

It’s funny too, I go read all the Facebook updates from my friends since I have been away. The whiners are still whining. “It’s so hot out”, “I don’t feel good” they say. Are you kidding me? I’m not being mean, just real. I wish I could spread a little zest around, help them see how fortunate they are to have the (“crappy”) health they have. Come lie with me for three days honey, I’ll make you laugh The thing that bothers me most is these comments are usually from my daughter’s friends – my “adoptive kids”. They’re 20-something and feel bad. One in particular is pregnant. STOP THE PRESSES! She and a million other 20-somethings! Suck it up, baby. Wait til that child gets here! LOL

I think most folks just don’t understand chemo – I mean, it is pretty frightening! They think you get these intravenous drugs for a while, your hair falls out then grows back, then you either go into remission or die. Welcome to Limbo! Sometimes you are lucky and just have chemo for years, like me.

But alas, tomorrow is always another day! I sure wouldn’t want the alternative…… So I’ll continue to lie here every three weeks, reading how crappy others feel, smiling and hoping. Hoping the next time is only as bad as this time.

Stephanie