The beginning of the end

Judging from how much my boobs hurt and my lower back aches, Day 1 of 21 should be tomorrow, unless the doctor’s office needs to push the cycle back yet again.

I am not eager or apprehensive, just filled with a heavy, sad resignation as my life settles back into a barrage of counting, waiting, needles, exams, surgery, and a creeping desperate hope. I just want it to be over. One way or the other.

I will think back on this last year as the lost year. The year that was consumed by this process, in which every thought and emotion and decision was tied to the cycle.