Round three chemotherapy tomorrow and this time I’m not ready to face it. My MRI scan results today showed the tumour is ‘stable’ after two rounds of drugs. It hasn’t grown but it hasn’t shrunk either. So basically I’ve endured six weeks of hell for diddly-squat.
And there are 12 more long weeks of torture stretching ahead just in case the tumour does decide to cooperate at any point. At which point I have a mastectomy to look forward to.
So no, I don’t want to go to the oncology day case unit tomorrow and get pumped full of poison that will render me migrainous and mute for days while my tumour continues to fester away merrily.
But I will. Because what choice do I have?