Tomorrow, I go in for my second sitting of chemo treatments.
As soon as any hesitation start to creep up, when thinking about it, my natural glass half full reflex coaches me to think how great it will be to have another treatment under belt…. how one more down, means one less to do… charging into the fire, is waaaaaay more satisfying than fearing it's flames.
I've always prided myself on my ability to mind over matter things. I can grin and bare with the best of them and I'm stubborn enough to pressing forward the hardest, when I feel like giving up the most.
Weak isn't something I show easily and rarely admitted to being.
Chemo is pointing out my weaknesses, ten fold.
I just don't want to do it again.
I've never in my life experienced a flight response to a situation before, but the idea of running like hell from tomorrow, seems like a pretty great idea at this moment in time.
I've been overwhelmed and continually humbled by the amount of support my family and I have received.
People are caring, people are loving, people are good.
This pothole of weakness isn't something I hope to stumble upon frequently, but know it will be unavoidable at times along this journey. And like tonight, it's within the words of encouragement, kindness, and support that I find myself jumping in, to catch me during this moment of vaulnrability, hopefully rally any strength, during the times I find my knees quivering amongst this burdened weight.
I know, when the alarm sounds in the morning, like a corner bell, I'll emerge from the pocket, in a fighter's stance, but tonight, tomorrow can take its sweet ass time coming.