Note: This is not me. Every single beautiful card, every heart-bursting email, every call - your love and prayers hold me when I'm huddling under the covers. This is a short entry to say simply and clumsily that I am very sick. Chemotherapy is a poison and it's sucking the life force out of my immune system before my soul and body decide to raise themselves once again. Sheol. Toxic unknown.
I am not able to answer emails individually right now. I am not always able to pick up the phone or return calls. I will not write every day in this blog - this isn't my "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm" testament to my enduring pluckiness. After 7 days of 24-hour chemo, the side affects are coming. I am told that as bad as I feel now, it's going to get worse.
The love and support I am receiving from you are beyond my doofus-y burbles, which is sometimes all I can cough out. In my 52 years I have never been in a hospital. I thought I needed a new gym or new pair of jogging shoes and some iron supplements. Seemingly out of nowhere it was acute leukemia leaping out of the bushes. Evidently that's what it does. It's hard for me.
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