I've never been happier to get my periods than this weekend! And no, there was no chance of me being pregnant and neither is that likely in the forseeable future.
It's just that chemotherapy is supposed not only to take my hair away but also my periods! And while it seemed like a good thing when the onco said so, I am so desperately clutching at remnants of my feminity that even the periods are welcome!
Today, I was running the word chemotherapy in my mind and I realised that it's such a misnomer. The chemicals used in chemotherapy are anything but therapeutic. For God's sake, they are little murderers thirsting after new, rapidly developing cells! How can that be therapeutic?
See, the word therapy conjures up nice things in my mind, sensations of well-being that are obtainable from a nice aromatic tea, or a leisurely massage, or walking by the sea, or holding his hand in mine...
And that's far, very far from what I am getting these days!
So yes, chemotherapy is the word I'll use, but with just that touch of sarcasm that says: you are not fooling me!