I got up. I got dressed. I was late, but I got to work at 8. I left at 8:20 with rubber legs and a sense of defeat. I just couldn't do it. I came home and Romeo, my cat just lay down on top of me, comforting me.
The steroids I'm on for the first four days after a chemo treatment....may be the culprit. I don't know. It could certainly be three doses of massive poisons. It could be a combination of surgery on Friday and Chemo on Monday, and my refusal to believe that I'm indestructable. Whatever is happening, I'm weak, and emotional and weak, and weak. Thanks to those who are understanding. I'm hoping this is transitory.