"Good Cancer."

And so it continues. 

The growth in my chest more than quadrupled in size over a six week period. Needless to say, that's pretty drastic. Still, it's treatable. Still curable, in my doctors words. 

So we'll work with that. 

Next Wednesday, Chemo begins. I'll go Wednesday and Thursday, for two different drugs, and repeat the process every three weeks. This will continue until the cancer goes into remission--until it can be seen that it has stopped growing. 

Ya know what? Nope. You don't need a breakdown of exactly what's coming any more than I need to give it to you. It's coming. We're starting again. I'm sure I'll write about what I'm experiencing as it's happening, but to lay out what's coming...just, no. It's happening, and I'm along for the ride. 

All this shit that I wish wasn't going to begin again--everything that was supposed to be wrapped up by now because I was lucky enough to be diagnosed with "good cancer," will start again next week. If that sounds bitter, well, it is. 

"Good Cancer." 

What else is there to say? 

I can pretend I'm ready. I think I am, but who the hell knows. I feel myself about to puke when I just think about sitting in the infusion chair. Not a good sign. 

I'm not happy about it, but I don't need to be my own cheerleader. I won't pretend to be some seasoned veteran, it's only been a year. Still, I have a good idea of what lies ahead in the coming months. 

Chances are good it will suck at times, if not the entire time. 

I won't complain about it either. At least not any further. It's happening. It's not a dream--the slim chance I spoke about didn't come to fruition. 

I have it great. I'm here. Others are not--I think of them every single day. 

"Good Cancer."

We're starting again. 

And when it's done--whether it's this attempt to kill it off, or the next, or the one after that:

I'll be cancer free. 

And it will all be more than worth it. A small price to pay. 

And you won't have to read my rambling, wandering, nearly-incoherent, angry blog posts.