Apologies for the long silence: my chemo ended just before Thanksgiving, but the six weeks since them has been rougher than I'd expected: I'm still pretty tired and a little queasy all the time, and have been struggling to fight off an infection. All of which has left me feeling a little down. It's as if something inside me didn't permit depression to take hold in the midst of chemo and cancer surgeries. Now that I have a little breathing space, the story is different.
Dealing with cancer is a little like raising kids. Parents figure out how to handle a two-year-old at about the time the child turns four--at least I did; I was always behind the curve. So too here. By the time my last round of chemo was ending, I knew how to do chemo. I haven't yet gotten the hang of this stage of the process, when I'm trying to put one foot in front of the other with an hourglass staring at me. But plenty of people have made this adjustment (and much harder ones) before, and I'm sure I will do so too.