Training Day

There are a lot of things in life that I would love to train for, chemo just isn't one of them. And I'm scared, because I already know what to expect.  

I can taste the saline in my mouth. I can feel the exact pattern of the alcohol swab as it sweeps across my chest. I taste it mingling with the saline. I see the neon yellow chemo and the unusual mauve rounded tub for when I vomit. I hear the crinkling of hospital bed paper as the I.V. drips while we wait for a bed upstairs. I sense my brain going numb and my toes tingling. I feel everything, I feel nothing. 

I've trained for this my whole life and yet I'm scared. I don't want to shut down again. I don't want to hide or disappear. In fact, I was finally emerging. I was finally showing up. I don't ask why me because I never have. I ask now what? I ask what now?? 

In the words of Diane von Furstenberg... Who is the woman I want to be? That is what I am going to train for. That is my practice. And the chemo is there. But I'm not training for it. It just is. 

The girl in the mirror... we meet once more.