The ill effects of treatment have begun to ease a bit. I drove myself to radiation this
morning and made it home without killing anyone
Two years ago, I contracted swine flu, which is a fair
approximation of how I've felt.
I have been irritable and impatient. Virtually everything has annoyed me as I've withdrawn into a tighter and tighter ball of misery and self-absorption.
It has been just over two months since my official diagnosis and so much has changed. The twin terrors of chemotherapy and radiation have kept their awful promise and have turned my life into a difficult slog.
The manic energy
and sharpened thoughts have disappeared. Writing has become a chore. But it's my job and I need to press on.
My rediscovered spirituality has receded as well. The ease with which I once prayed is gone. And what prayers I muster are centered
on me and my health rather than the concerns of others.
That's the person I miss most right now, the empathetic and kind-hearted
Mark, not the surly, self-centered prick I've always been.
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