it's March 2010, and almost one year after my diagnoses/start of this huge battle.
Battle, doesn't even quite say it.
I feel almost like I need to go back and read everything I've written here because it's like I'm in a kind of fog.
Like it all happened, but it seems like a dream of sorts. A bad dream, but the only way I can really explain it is like a detached feeling in a way.
I know it happened, I know I went through all of this, I have the physical scars on my body, and the soreness that still remains in my bones and my muscles.
I'm still tired, although not like before.
It's all just kind of weird and surreal.
I still have to get this port taken out, we just can't afford to do it right now.
I'm going to check with the radiologist that put it in and see if she's cheaper than my surgeon.
And if not, then I'll just have to wait I guess. . . .