The past two weeks have been tough, both physically and mentally. I try so hard to stay strong and positive, but there are days I want to throw in the towel and quit. Tomorrow I will have surgery to put in my IV port. I know I need to do this because my veins are giving out. Every week they have to dig to find one and it hurts. But the thought of another surgery scares me…the thought of a foreign object in my body makes me crazy. All the things that could go wrong race through my mind and I’m reduced to tears, again.  I know this is one more thing to move me farther on the road to recovery and yes, I’ll do it.  But the tears…they seem to flow more often than I’d like. My sister is avoiding me…this is the same sister that I’ve helped move, twice, dropped everything when her son was in trouble to be with her and this is the same sister that I hung out with, shopped with and finally trusted enough to tell my secrets to.  My heart hurts…ten years ago when I left my sons’ father, my family turned their back on me…it’s the same now with my sister and I really believed that this time when I needed her, she would be there. This disease is hard…I know that, I live with the what-if’s everyday. I know it’s hard to watch someone you care about being sick…but…really…not even a phone call? It hurts…but I will suck it up and move on because I can’t waste my energy trying to make someone understand that it’s a process, this recovery thing. I have to go put chemicals through my body to kill the bad so the good can recover…I have to lose my hair as a result of that…and I will be sick some days. But I’m not dead yet!! I keep hearing that song in my head…when the going gets tough, the tough get going, when the going gets rough, the tough get rough…I’ll get through this with or without my sister…