Orchids to spending the afternoon with Kathy. She took me to my doctor's appt and then we went to the hospital to get her Groshong checked out (Kathy is a woman who was diagnosed about two months after me, so everything I do, she does a little bit later). She is a sweetheart, almost 60, and has a wonderful husband and children only slightly older than myself. She is my surrogate mommy right now, and we went traipsing all over and it was swell. We talk a lot about our disease, and it is good to talk to someone who understands the little things that others will not.
Onions to having chemo start next week. I guess it's the lesser of two evils: chemo or dying. Meh.
I had a revelation this evening, though. And for this I am extremely thankful: Why am I crying about waiting to die? I am crying because I have a 50% chance of survival. Well, fuck that. It's like waiting to die. What about the miracles which have happened now, already? After one round of inpatient chemo, I was pronounced in remission, and have been ever since. Fuck this whole low counts bit. I have survived. Survival isn't something in the future. Survival is about the here and now. Does this make any sense? I should be thankful that I have lasted this long, and not think that I could die somewhere in the future. Because I have survived already and that makes me a goddamn trooper! Fuck statistics!