I have been struggling a bit lately.
For the last 190 days we have had a pretty clear picture of what was ahead of us.
Bilateral Mastectomy. Check.
Possible radiation. Check.
In the mail today arrived a thick packet inviting me to join a clinical trial for people with a similar diagnosis as mine. I respectfully read through the paper work, but when I got to what the trail exactly entailed I was less than enthusiastic.
Let's just say it is a 5 year commitment to taking a drug every day. On top of everything else.
And that's when it hit me...again.
This is really happening. This really is my life.
And so I cried.
I cried because:
I am the one with cancer.
I am the one who will be considered for clinical trials.
I am the one who will visit the Dr. more than anyone I know.
I am the one with an IV port in my chest.
I am the one who lost all her hair.
I am the one who lived through 16 rounds of chemo.
I am the one with expander's that are more uncomfortable than you can imagine.
I am the one with 3 kids who I am determined to see grow up.
But who else if not me?