Today is rumoured to be Saturday.

Thursday was a good day. No nausea. Full on eating of meals. My sister and I went for a sunset beach walk. In fact, I said to my sister, "If this continues, maybe we can go to a matinee tomorrow." God, I must live in some kind of chemo fantasy land...

Friday sucked. The lethargy leaves me flattened. I had my first round of vomiting. When the nausea hits I have to lie still and decide. "Is it nausea- nausea? or nausea - I'm starving to death - nausea?" "If I eat will the nausea disapear? If I take a Zofran will the nausea leave? or if it is hunger, will it carve a path in my belly?"

I take a Zofran, a Decadron and Ambien to sleep at night. And I do sleep.

I wake up hesitantly. Am I still nausea or could I eat? And I eat a beautiful egg sandwich coz I feel hungry. And then I get tired. I lie down.

When I lie in bed that is all I want to do. I can feel the edge of sinking into the abyss. I can hear a voice in my head saying, "Drink. Drink something. DO NOT get dehydrated." And then I lie there waiting for an impulse to motivate me to want to get better... "What would it matter? And if I don't drink? And if I don't move? Would I just lie here staring at the ceiling lamp forever?" There is a part of me that wants to meld into the bed and just disappear. I'm starting to get what the fight is for.... It is to fight for my midline, for my center, for my truth of who I am, for consciousness, for being heard, fighting for healthy support, becasue it is so easy to get caught up in someone eles's or some thing's battle and loose track of oneself.

And then I get up to pee. And in this moment I feel human again. Tired, but no longer a puddle of 'blah'.

My sister finds beauty in these darkened moments of stillness, so she snaps away.

Anna comes over to give me some acupuncture. My tongue has a think yellow coat and I can feel and taste it. YUCK!!!

The rumour is today is Saturday. All I know is there is light still outside and I'm actually feeling good enough to type.

As I take a moment to own my exasperation of not wanting to have cancer anymore as I sigh heavily with my hand over my head.

Stephanie kindly asks, "Do you want something?"

"Yes. I don't want to be the girl with cancer anymore."