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The news.

The news.

I should have known. I had been waiting for this news. I had given myself permission to accept it could happen. I dared to be believe that it would. So it follows, naturally, that it wouldn’t. I should have known. I looked down at my hands and interlocked my fingers...
The shocks.

The shocks.

First, I felt the ants. Their little legs tickling mine. I felt them as I sat quietly at the dining room table. I felt them as I wandered around the supermarket. I felt them boldly marching over my skin as I jumped and yelped and slapped at them. And then, just as...
The fight.

The fight.

I’ll admit, I have imagined music playing at the conclusion of my funeral. More than once, actually. Anxiously chewed my cheek and let a series of notes to an unnamed song fill my head. It is not the most inspiring of day dreams. And once a thought like that enters my...
The bounce.

The bounce.

Tuesdays are probably the nastiest days. Chemo Tuesdays. They are my low point. I am on a fortnightly chemotherapy treatment schedule. This means every second Monday, I have an in-hospital treatment on the Epworth Eastern Day Oncology ward that lasts around six hours....
The poison.

The poison.

I know it may seem like a bizarre wish – but I wanted to lose my hair. In my mind, chemotherapy that was killing my abundant head of hair would surely really be giving it to that nasty cancer. So when my first oncologist told me that I would keep my hair, I was...