“I can’t find it.”

“Maybe it’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had chemo last Tuesday. Maybe the chemo killed that growth.  It’s possible right?”

“It is possible.  Maybe.  Or maybe it’s hiding behind your bowel.”

Crap.  “No, I prefer to think it’s gone.”

This is the hope I hold onto as I move through my second week of post-chemotherapy stress disorder, or PCSD for short.  I wake up and think, “I wonder if it’s gone.”  I eat breakfast and think, “I wonder if this fights cancer?”  I shower and target the heat on the would-be tumors.  I drink water and imagine it rinsing the cancer from my body.  Down the sewer pipes it goes.  I heat my food on the stove – microwaves may be bad.  An apple a day keeps the cancer away and so I eat apples.  I lay down to rest to give my…