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The after.

Something I often hear from those on the other side of active treatment is how little anyone speaks of what the after is really like. In my case, a fight that looked like 18 months of chemotherapy and immunotherapy during the isolation of COVID, iron transfusions, a bilateral mastectomy with multiple surgeries for reconstruction, a total hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo oophorectomy which meant slamming into menopause at 38, therapy and a multi level neck fusion,…

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It’s in the quiet.

That’s when the shakes start. That’s when the world just seems to…fall apart. The fear paints the night. I worry til morning. When I can see the light. Oh how I wish for an end in sight. I am so tired of the fight. The quake comes from within and won’t stop. The noise is around me. It tries to break in. The peace tries to surround me. But it can’t win. The warmth grows.…

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