I feel like I'm fucking giving up. I don't wanna give up but I feel like I'm being dragged to that corner of the room. I'm always tired, weak and cold. Like I'm fucking giving up!

Ain't that like fuckin' cancer—these new experimental trial drugs give me zitz like I'm fuckin' 13!

Today I had to get up early for Day One of Radiation Therapy. THAT has got be the worse part of cancer—getting up. Fuck is always the first word I say now.

I called my radiation oncologist the other day and got the FULL report of my bone scan. Not only is my leg fucked. My spine, my skull and my ribs are also included in the new real estate cancer has taken homes in.

Fuck!

Lately, I haven't been sleeping well. I seem to wake up around 2 a.m. with The Worries.

Some of The Worries are about "long-term" worries like will I only be able to finish one more book before I die?

And some of The Worries are sillier "short-term" worries like will I be able to transplant the strawberries before I die?

And sometimes, I think the best solution to all my worries is just to die.

No matter how you butter this toast, yesterday was a BAD NEWS DAY.

My fucking chemo ain't working. And this pain in my side and pain in my leg has nothing to do with overexertion or not working the muscle enough. Plain and simple, it's fucking cancer eating my bones

FUCK!

So, I've turned a new chapter. Everything that I've come to accept as routine will now be changed. Stay tuned. I know this ride ain't over yet but it's getting a little crazy.

If CANCER hasn't taught me anything, it's:

Every "I LOVE life—whatever is left for me!" post will be followed by "another day of blood in my watery shit" post.

It's just the way CANCER is. It gives no GOOD without and an equal or proportionately higher dose of BAD. It just does.