The River of Tears

I could feel a weekness coming on...As I was waiting to be called back into the chemo room, I felt a weekness in my brave front.  My bc facade was cracking.  I was trying desparately inside to toughen up, but as my name was called and my niece gave me a hug goodbye, the flood gates opened.  I felt like a kid going off to camp with my pillow, blanket and tote bag.  I didn't want to continue, but the nurses gave me a tissue and lead me back to the chair.  I briefly scanned the room only to notice I was the only patient under 75 years of age in the room.  I couldn't believe I had let myself  be so weak and vulnerable.  In the presence of veterans, I was showing weekness.  I think it was an emotional release... in retrospect it had to happen.  I realized that this bc thing is really happening and I can't just click my heels three times and go home.  Whenever my daughter and I go out and I don't feel that I want to be wherever it is, I just exclaim "Toto, I want to go home".  This time I had to continue down the ominous yellow brick road.  I could see the veterans looking at me and I could feel the strength they were sending me.  Although they couldn't just get up and hug me, their eyes were saying, we've travelled this road and we are with you...  it's going to be OK.  The truth is, I didn't even feel the port being accessed.  When the nurse announced that the golden pills were being brought to me, my emotions changed from fear and sadness to total elation.  The bc wall was patched and I am now continuing down the yellow brick road.