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The Cancer Journey; Ovarian Cancer |
She was four weeks removed from her final chemotherapy—and hopefully her last. Coco’s appointment was scheduled for 10:15 this morning. In a few hours she would know where she stood with the cancer. The parasite within.
But there was this long night before the big day. And sleep proved elusive. How could she rest during such a pivotal time as this? And then to make matters worse, a storm swept through at midnight, a lightning show that lit up her walls, casting eerie shadows. Her husband’s heavy breathing reminded her of what deep sleep sounded like—though she couldn’t mimic it for the life of her. He never stirred once, though the ground shook with thunder. How she envied that. But in the end—fatigue overwhelmed her weakened body and she drifted off—at three am.
A flash of light.
Then the cold chill followed. There was a mist or a fog hovering over the lights. She found herself in a doctor’s office, but was it hers? She couldn’t recall trekking over here. Yet here she was, in an office, with unfamiliar surroundings, and yet vaguely there was something familiar. She just surmised that this room must be the right place... But it looked so different.