She is LIVING with cancer.

She juggles a million balls in the air every day and maybe, just maybe, one takes a bounce now and then, but it’s a rare bounce.

She balances family, job, pruning her flower garden and oh, did I mention a chemotherapy session every three weeks, just because she has to?  In fact, it’s her second round of liquid unpleasantness and she has made up her mind, it will not ruin her day.  It will not rule her day.

She’ll sit quietly and be a good patient while the chemo enters her body and is directed to hunt and destroy her cancer cells but don’t get in her way once the therapy is complete.  She has plans for the evening and she is bound and determined not to let the morning interfere with her tonight.

Granted there might be a nap sandwiched in the day but that’s only to allow her body to begin to reboot.

She’s LIVING with cancer.

She takes it along with her where ever she goes, because she has no choice.

The flip side of that “choice” is not to be defined by her disease.

There’s too many balls in the air for that and besides, there’s dinner tonight.

 

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