The Wall

Five weeks into my daily treatments and my skin is red, raw, and blistered.  This morning, the thought of getting to my 24th radiation treatment seemed all too impossible. My inner dialogue was whispering "Just sit up, now breathe, just put your feet on the floor, now breathe..."  Sometimes taking it one day at a time is just too daunting.  Sometimes it requires seconds, nanoseconds of pure fight.  There is a term among marathon runners called "The Wall", it refers to the moment where your body gives in and simply refuses to take another step.  I've hit The Wall.  As my fingers flick these keys, tears of defeat roll down my cheeks.  Requiring a deeper layer of surrender.  Its beyond strength, all of that has long been mustered.  I've simply surrendered.  Knowing the only way to break through The Wall is to put one foot in front of the other.  Radiation has robbed me of all my energy, stolen my patience, and fractured my faith.  So, sweet friends when you hear from me next it will be to the tune of my victory bell.  Friday the 21st will be my last radiation treatment.  With only a hand full of chemo's left to complete I can see the finish line.  But first, I just have to tear down this wall.

 If there is one thing worth fighting for.....it's this.