Cancer Survivor

Here I am with Missy. I am still wearing my hat because my hair is gone. I was first diagnosed with ovarian cancer, stage III, in October 2006. By November 2006, I had been split open (surgically speaking) and had all of my female organs removed. Since the cancer had spread, I also had part of my intestine removed, and was fitted with a bag to collect my wastes.
Next, in the middle of December 2006, I begin Chemotherapy. (Which is a medical term for paying for the privilege of slowly putting poisonous chemicals directly into your veins.)
The poor nurses, who must deal daily with these lethal chemicals, must be very careful not to touch any of these chemicals. They are bio hazards and dangerous. It is unreal to think that cancer patients unwitting agree to take these dangerous chemicals into their bodies with the attitude that it is medicine. (A word to the wise, anything that makes your hair fall out, isn't doing the rest of your body any good either, and it cannot by any stretch of the imagination be considered medicine.)
For the next six months, I became one of the living dead. The chemicals not only made me sick, and caused me to lose my hair, they also affected my brain. I couldn't remember things, I drooled, I experienced neuropathy in my hands and feet.
Although I went into remission after the 2nd month ( January 2007), of chemo, the treatment remained the same. I went every month and sat in a room with other cancer patients. I passively sat and allowed poison to be pumped into my abdominal caviety, my veins, for 6 hours at a time. I went home, came back for more the next day. Then, home again and experienced the reaction of my body, which considering the way i was betraying my survival mechanisms, was a foregone conclusion. ( They had even given me a list of possible "side effecrts" , I could expect.) The next week, i would go back for a few more hours of poison, then home to allow my poor body to attempt to repair itself. Then back again to repeat the cycle.
At the end of six months, (May 2007) I was still in remission,still alive, but barely able to function normally. I still had the reconstruction surgery for my bowels to go through. After two months to recover, I went under the knife again. (July 2007). I was reconnected, and sent back to the world of the living.
I began to rebuild my life. My hair came back. I went back to school, I'm a teacher. Because of my neuropathy, I needed a cane to walk. I had a hard time typing because my hands were numb. I couldn't button my own pants. But I was alive. I had beaten the cancer, or so I thought . . .