What doesn’t kill you makes you smell stronger.

What doesn’t kill you makes you smell stronger.
 
I woke up in the middle of the night with my underwear soaked with poop, It’s so humiliating. I’ve thrown away four pairs of underweesr because of this. I take the medications but it doesn;t always work. I go to the bathroom and suddenly lose my balance and fall with poop on my legs, I lied there for a few seconds making sure I haven;t hurt myself. Laurie comes running in, all worried. WHen my butt hit I made a floor-shaking boom. But I slowly regained my composure and stood up, People who say I’m an inspiration or have courage–well, can’t say I was a pretty picture.
 
The one thing I learned about going through chemo on my third all-day ride pass–well, I know it’s a healing toxin, but it’s still a toxin, and I approach it with more of an adversial stance, That’s why I’ve gone into the clinic for bags of hydration (the equivalent of two liters of water) to flush the toxins out of my system quicker. I’m doing a balancing board for my legs, ankle weights, dumbells for my arms. I stop, panting, exhausted. And as weary as I am, the overwhelming feeling though all of this is a pulse of healthiness within me–my body is saying cancer is not here, keep going, cancer is not here, but keep taking the hits to make sure, but cancer is not here.
 
And then I land on my own ass with my legs covered with poop. I refuse to be humbled by waste.
 
I get up. Clean the bed. And sleep.