Target Practice

I don't know exactly why I am so afraid of this part.  Maybe because my gut cant seem to accept it.  Maybe it's the cold and sterile feel of it.  Maybe it's just the fear of the unknown.  I do know that I hate what it says about me, I know I hate the category it lumps me into.

"I have poisoned my body for a year, cut my breasts and lymph nodes off, and still...I need to be microwaved?  That bad, huh?"

Needless to say, I'm in a funky head space.  Anxious.  Uncertain.  Done.  My gas tank is running low and this certainly isn't the leg of the race for any of that.  I am going through the motions, lifelessly.  On Wednesday, I had a special mold made that fits only me, laying in a very specific (and uncomfortable post-surgical) position.  They drew markings all over my chest and armpits.  I am told that if I baby these markings I can avoid tattooing.  And it seems a few tears and calls to the right people was all it took to get my schedule to much more reasonable place.      

On the 4th of February, I will begin my daily radiation treatments.  Between doctors appointments, chemo, and radiation I will literally be a full time cancer patient.  As if I wasn't already.  I'm struggling to find my strength here.  I am just so tired.  Every moment in my mind is filled with attempts to improve the quality of my thoughts, dim down the fear, search for positivity, and muster up some guts.  But for now, to be perfectly honest, I am pissed off and scared shitless.  At least I have a couple weeks to get over it, right?