The bees don't want me to have chemo
In the morning, I do sun salutations. Greeting the day with snaps and crackles like all the fun of bubble wrap, but…much, much older. The ritual always ends differently, but it’s consistently my moment to check-in with the universe. May today bring whatever I need to be in alignment with my greatest purpose. May today bring love, comfort, and strength to those in need. May today be exactly as it needs to be—I’m grateful to be witness. Etc. *crunches granola* In August, I was over it. Up until then, I’d moan and groan about infusion day like the first day of school after vacation, but I knew it was helping me—a necessary detour of about 5 days in order to have the other 16. But that started to change. My body stopped being nice and finally said, “Why do you keep fucking doing this to me!?” On the way to the hospital for an infusion, I told Leannda, “I don’t want there to be anything wrong, but I need something to happen so that I don’t get chemo today.” I didn’t get chemo that day...