Preparing for the Lonely Hours

It's that time again.

I hate to think about it:
Chemo.
I call the aftermath, the "Lonely Hours."
Not much happens during the treatment itself, except of course, treatment. But once I return home and shut the bedroom door, the affects of the chemo take over:
nausea;
vomiting;
dehydration;
body aches;
fatigue; and finally
exhaustion.


For the next 48 hours, I am trapped in an underground tunnel, hidden in a breathless world. Even with Jeff sitting across the room - watching, I am lost and alone until the chemo decides to release it's menacing grip.


It's hard to believe feeling that bad could be good for me.
It's difficult to trust my gut when it's twisted inside out.


Yet, I'll keep going back,
again and again,
and then some more,
until I have exhausted all remaining 14 treatments.

Pass the chemo, please.