Last Day of Chemo
They detach the last tube of hydration. The chemo is in my system. But it’s my last day. I’m completely drained. There’s a different fatigue. It an unwelcome weight, like I’m wearing a lead jacket and lead shorts–a heaviness that impedes. To go through this trail of hanging chemo, I have to put up an impenetrable shield to go through it–then after they release me from it, this hardened bubbled shell cracks open and I look at the day and all this goo comes out of me as I see the new day and know my taste will return and I am traveling to my life and I blubber with tears, “I made it.”
More later. I really am tired. I’ve been running in a race and there’s a finishing line, but there will never be a finishing line for me again. I will have more checkups and an operation so I will be a different, life will never be the same. There’s an exhaustion as the armored shield I have been wearing peels and drops off with each step. I get awakened by the shifting light in the clouds and looking forward to tasting food and reaching out to my friends. But I’m so jazzed!
fredforyourhead
Fred For Your Head 
Helluva ride Fred, keep on living the hell outta life…
Hi Fred….
just saw your story the SC weekly yesterday….been a long time since I came into the winery on Bean Rd….but just wanted to give u a shout out, and hoping u are feeling stronger and better real soon!! I just like u so much, u always were so kind to my family when we came by, and always offered our “special friend” Ryan pretzels….and entertained us at the winery….it was always so much fun to come by & talk to u, and enjoy a little tasting….I hope to see u again in the near future over there!
All my Best, Peggy
The winery is closed now. Thank you for the nice comments. And your concerns. It all helps! I’m bouncing around at other wineries to pick up whatever I can. Thanks again.