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    After I posted last night, I thought hard about it and then looked up heat rash.

    This morning it was better. If it was skin mets my calendula cream would do nothing for it! All appears to be well, and I am again so grateful. I never take anything for granted anymore, or try not to! Sometimes I slip and start to forget just how precious my life is to me. Then another little scare puts it all into perspective.

    We all get scared sometimes. It felt good last night to write about it. In fact, the last phrase came out with a simultaneous sigh of comfort. Sometimes just acknowledging what’s so makes it less so. Strange how that works.

    I remember one day during chemo, not quite three years ago. It was my third Adriamycin/Cytoxan infusion. It was the weekend. I had chemo on Wednesdays, and Fridays were usually the worst days. Saturdays were a little less bad, and by Sunday I was breathing a sigh of relief that another one was done.

    This particular Saturday, I was at my boyfriend’s house. This became our pattern on chemo weekends. I’d just hang there, he’d take care of me, and we did mellow things. On the alternate weekends we both had our kids, and the four of them got along famously. We did mostly normal things (me less vigorously, but we still did) and that helped me remember what normal felt like. I tried to take a nap on this particularly miserable Saturday, and just couldn’t get comfortable. I was overwhelmed by my multiple discomforts. They were more than the sum of their parts. Finally I gave up and came out into the kitchen, where my boyfriend was busy just doing his household things.

    I looked at him and started to cry. He was a real trooper that day. He dropped what he was doing and listened to me. I complained that my stomach was queasy, everything hurt, I was desperate to sleep and every time I started to drift I had to pee, because that wretched red devil Adriamycin is a bladder irritant. I spilled it all. I whined. I expressed how tired of it I was and I still had five more to go. He just listened. After I dumped it all out and looked at it, I picked myself up, went back to the bed and went to sleep for awhile. I felt better when I got up later.

    Last night when I was in a panic the thought occurred to me to just say it. Just look at it, tell the truth about it, and sit with that. Yes, I was spooked. Yes, this is part of survivorship. After I freaked, then I could face what was scaring me and look at it closely. I found some pictures of heat rash and it sure looked like that to me!

    I went to bed last night just as chipper as I could be.

    After that awful 3rd A/C infusion, it was not until the following Wednesday morning that I felt human again. Did I mention that I had a sinus infection as well? That the A/C had a nice antibiotic piggyback on top of it? That my head felt like it was going to blow up? What I remember most was the sheer joy of waking up on a spring morning and feeling good. I was so happy I just wandered around the apartment singing at the top of my lungs for happiness. I must have kept it up for at least an hour. Mozart, Faure, Puccini, smatterings of my favorite operas and show tunes, reveling in the high notes, drawing in great breaths of life.

    I feel a little bit like that today.

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