As I watched the last dose of chemotherapy drip from the IV bag into my veins, one question filled my mind: “What happens now? Do I die, or do I live?” When treatment ended, I still had no hair anywhere on my body. Seven months later, my hair finally began to grow back, this time coming in curly with a white patch the size of a quarter. My eyebrows and eyelashes returned, too, which should have felt like progress.
So why do I still feel so sick and exhausted? When will I feel like myself again, or have I lost that person forever?
My body has just endured an enormous assault, and I know recovery is a long and daunting process. There’s no instant bounce-back. I’ve been knocked down time after time—through surgery, anesthesia, and eighteen months of chemotherapy, six hours each week. After everything, I’m left wondering how long it will take before I can recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror.