As I type these very words, a machine is pumping what will be my final round of chemo into my veins. This is the last time I will have to endure the fatigue, the nausea and the heinous mouth sores. That is because I have beat cancer.
It's been less than three months since I was diagnosed with cancer, and in the past 11 weeks I've seen more doctors, nurses and lab technicians than I'd planned to in my entire lifetime. It's a bit like an Applebee's—a host to get your table, a bartender to mix your drink, a waiter to take your order, a busboy to…
Last week, my hair started abandoning me.
The picture on the left was taken last week, right before I started my first course of chemotherapy. As you can see, the tumor in my neck was gigantic. The one on the right was taken today and shows what just one course of chemotherapy can do.