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Ugh.  A big deflating, Ugh.

We all knew the side effects of the clinical trial drug could make S sick.  What we didn’t know is how sick since she’s on now-being-tested high dose.

She pretty much has the plague. Like high temps of 103.5° and low temps of 94.4° every single day.  That’s writhe-around-and-sweat-your-ass-off hot and can’t-use-your-fingers-and-shake-violently cold.  Her head pounds, her neck is stiff, her body hurts – like the mother of all flu viruses.

But S has will power superior to anyone. The first time she used a sick day in TWELVE years was for the first tumor and lymph node resection. And here’s the best part, as craptacular as she feels, she’s gone to work every day since this came on 1.5 weeks ago.

It sure as hell puts into perspective wanting to cheat Clean in ’13 or quit at the gym.  Last night was my first time back at the gym in over a month.  There’s a class on Monday night that’s a real ass kicker. It’s awesome.  It’s four sets of eight 20 second bursts of high intensity cardio or strength training.  Damn straight I was figuring out how to quit ‘gracefully’ after the sixth sprint. But there’s only one thought racing through my mind right after I consider quitting:

S has cancer.

I plead with empty air that she didn’t. I hate that it’s fueling the change in me. But she does and it is.

Oh man, I’ve missed reading.  And to find a book that can’t be put down, even into the wee hours of the morning?  Bliss.

The first fifty pages of Falling Home were treacherous.  The writing isn’t the greatest, but the story eventually overpowered the writing. It’s the same level of engagement found in the Twilight series…that I will sheepishly admit to having read. There is something about the love stories in these books that successfully panders to the wide-eyed young woman within.

S is a huge reader. As in she strictly borrows books from the library or the community because it would be a budget-breaker otherwise. Just as I would any other good read, I want to give her this book, but {spoiler alert} the sister has advanced cancer and dies at the end.  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get emotional thinking of S, who is for all non-family tree purposes my sister,  dying.  And I simply won’t give her the opportunity to give up even a gram of hope.

I shouldn’t censor anything from her, but when Dr. Cure It refused to give her a life expectancy*, but told her instead, “People are cured from Stage IV cancer. It’s the exception, but it does happen.” there’s no way I’m pumping anything negative her way.  If she stumbles across this book on her own, fine.  But it’s not coming from me.

*The median life expectancy is nine months from diagnosis for Stage IV melanoma.  Go to a dermatologist and get your moles and freckles checked. GO. Life is already far too short.  DO NOT  gamble with cancer.