Cumulative effects.

Hold the phone! Here I was thinking I was dealing with this chemo business just fine—all miss sass-mama about how well I was tolerating the first two treatments. Minor down-time and back to business, that's right. Well, Monday ushered in chemo treatment number three—an ass–kicking has occurred. I am dragging: fatigued, light-headed, my mouth is sore and my taste buds off. I look in the mirror and see a sorry, pale-faced, scrawny hairless breed that looks in need of a home. And, despite this, I am clear that I am damn lucky I am having only four; count ‘em F-O-U-R, treatments. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, or will see the light as the last one approaches.
And, like feeling shitty isn’t quite enough…it’s Valentine’s Day. Oh, why not just throw me down a flight of stairs?