where the writers are
Saturday: March 3, 2012

I've descended into the shelter to wait for the shit storm to pass. The very thing that is supposed to be saving my life feels like it's killing me.

Except for those sneaky blood clots, I had tolerated treatment fairly well until this week. I now fully appreciate just how powerfully awful this medicine is.

The symptoms – something akin to the flu – began Wednesday and have grown more intense. I dragged myself to radiation Thursday and Friday. But yesterday, I spent about 30 minutes lying on the table waiting for treatment only to learn that The Big Machine was broken.

The techs sent me home and told me I could probably come come back in a couple hours. Instead, I got a call telling me I could return today or add a session at the end.

I’m having Mary Lou drive me down the hill later today. I don’t want to delay anything.

I want treatment to be over and life to begin anew.