So. Chemo.

CHEMO. CHEMOTHERAPY. CANCER. DEATH. life.

Maybe it's just me.  But that's the pre-cancer view I had on chemotherapy.  Yes, life was in there.  But, ...man.

It's an ugly word to hold so much hope.   Chemo just isn't a word that brings images of flowers and kittens to mind.  Or playing with your children, or friends. Or riding a bike, or running.  Chemo does not create envy. It's a word wrapped in fatigue and vomit.

Mixed in, there is a degree of fear that it won't work.  That the person you know on chemo is going to get very sick and they might die anyway.  I thought that way.  I see that some of the people I talk to now, think that way about me.  I get this little gut, what?  But, my cancer is 80% curable!  Still, I get it.

CHEMOTHERAPY. LIFE. CHEMO.                                    cancer.                         death.

I've never quite felt like having hit the lottery before.  Once cancer is a given, forget wishing it was otherwise: what matters is what you have and how far has it gone?   I have Hodgkin's Lymphoma IIA.  And that means that chemotherapy is my best friend.

Still, it's an unfortunate moniker.   But, now Chemo brings to mind images of running with Sarah, biking with Helen or, doing SCA medieval combat with my friends.  Chemo will kill my cancer and, maybe, it will make me sick.   But compared to what I'm going to get from it, nothing has been that bad. It's been...factual.  I kind of look forward to my treatments and the aftermath.

I've also been associating the word Chemo with how I feel about Milkshakes.  Try it, it's pretty good!