Sometimes I have to restrict my push to the finish mindset to simply a push to the end of the day. I get so excited to think I have JUST TWO CHEMO SESSIONS LEFT.

But then, so easily, my mind wanders elsewhere. To the long, long road still ahead of me.  The five weeks of daily radiation, the two day hospital stay for surgery, the two months of recovery, a year of clinical trials, meaning the port I was so excited to have removed stays put for another 2 years (optional, but I feel really compelled to participate considering so many women participating in earlier trials helped discover new advances I’m now taking advantage of), and the ten years of tamoxifin ahead of me. I’m tired of being poked and proded. I don’t want anyone else to see my body parts, to inflict any more scars in the name of science. When my mind wanders like this, the feeling of defeat is all encompassing, palpable.

I can’t do that though, as Tim reminds me on a daily basis. I’ve got to focus on this battle, not the entire war. I’m trying my best.

I take B to a new place for coffee I’ve been wanting to try, sit in the sunshine on our patio, read a book with a snuggly pup on my lap, and reflect on one important fact:


I’ll deal with that other shit later. Today, I’m only looking at this shit. And the fact that in 17 days, it’ll be done.


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