God love them all

Depending on what day it is, I feel blessed or cursed. God, please take special exemption and please grant your mercy on those who have gone through chemo, are going through it now or will go through it. Have a special place for the families of those who go through this nasty ass shit. It tears you up, makes you weak and it will shake the foundation of your core. It makes you stand in front of the meat counter at Schnuck's wondering why you are there. The ceiling fan is an endlessly looped tape. You have a rash from the top of your chest to the top of your ankles. You want to kill yourself. Right is wrong and wrong is right. Its poison. It's like pouring drain cleaner in your veins, and then waiting around to see what happens. You can't sleep and you dare not eat. It's like walking through a muddy swamp with boots on, the muck keeps collecting in your shoes, making it harder and harder to walk on. Hang in there, all of you. You can only walk halfway into the swamp, after that, you are walking out of it. Hang on. Hang on.