cancer – day 138

What a singularly strange experience, to be able, in your thirties, to live in a body of limitations for double and triple your actual age. And to go thought it quickly, in a matter of weeks, not decades. Shocker. Hard to handle. Depressing.

Nothing works. Can’t see. Can’t type. Can’t write. Can’t think. Bowels don’t work, either flush everything upon ingestion or hold for eternity and a blockage. Shaky. No balance. Afraid to ride my bike, or even go for a walk, too tippy, too clumsy, bump into stuff all the time, bruises everywhere. Worrying about dehydration, trying to get calories to stay in side the body.

Trying to keep a good attitude.