The best way I can describe the land of chemo. Imagine yourself stripped down, perhaps in whatever remains of your street clothes, which are in rags. And you are walking on a lunar landscape with barren trees, and a red sun, across cracks in the ground. ANd you take all these sagebrush-shaped clouds that have barbs and thorns. And you take these clouds full-on, absorbing them, taking the cut and pains and the feeling a creature is squeeze sll your organs through its fingers. But it's also choking cancer. ANd you take a hit, stagger, and shuffle forward, trying to get back to the land of green and blue and a yellow sun. And slowly, the terrain begins to become nuanced wih those colors and tastes and smells. And you walk faster, wanting the change to happen quicker, wanting to return to the spirit of the world of you. Your mouth might have sores, your mouth tasting some flavors of food tinged with lead pencil shavings, and your legs heavy from nerve damage that takes forever to heal. But you walk through it. You sometimes crawl through it. You sometimes sleep through it. But you go through it, hoping for the colors to change within and without you.