Yesterday I made a decision — I am doubling up on my treatments for Monday and Tuesday, and I am going to finish radiation on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. I want my confetti party early, and I want to drink champagne after. I am probably going to cry.
I try to keep thinking how bad off you have to be to arrive at the radiation clinic in a private ambulance, how bad off you have to be to be in chemo and radiation simultaneously, and that's not me. I can walk in there and leave on my own two feet, and in my own car. And the people who work at the radiation clinic are the most professional and nicest human beings I have ever encountered. But I just don't want to be there anymore and I am going to get this over with.