It's hard to believe I've had my 4th chemo treatment already. It's gone by very quickly, possibly because I am still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something that will make this experience as terrible as I expected it would be. But so far it hasn't happened. The worst part of this experience to date hasn't been any one particular day or procedure. (OK, to be honest, getting the port-a-cath in was pretty rough.) But truthfully the worst part has been the fear of what could happen. Especially as concerns our little one. I imagine most new...

I used to run everywhere. I didn't see the point in walking, if you could get where you were going faster. It seemed like an incredible advance in human efficiency that grown-ups had simply missed. Eventually, though, I remember first feeling tired. I don't know when, or remember the exact circumstance, but I remember the distinct feeling. Oh. Realizing what grown-ups felt. But I remained a decent sprinter; speed wasn't my problem. But I have always hated distance running. I need to be distracted. Put a pack on my back, throw me in the woods, under a steady rain; anything to fight...