Practicing Medicine

Today was one of those days when everything just felt like too much. Too much physically, mentally, and emotionally.

During treatment, I noticed an intense burning sensation around my port site. It felt hot and irritated, like my skin was on fire. I didn’t know what was happening, but the discomfort wouldn’t stop. When the nurse tried to help by loosening the dressing, I felt every ounce of my skin ripping away. I wanted to cry out, but I just sat there, biting my lip. When the dressing was finally off, my chest was covered in angry welts and red lesions. It looked like someone had beaten me, but this was just my body reacting — yet again — but this time to the adhesive.

I’m so sick of this! It’s always something. As if that wasn’t enough, I two locs of my hair this week. It’s like all the side effects are starting to show now. My face is breaking out with these stubborn white pustules — tiny blemishes that scar as quickly as they appear. My allergies are raging, my eyes constantly water, and my skin feels like it’s on fire. The slightest touch leaves a bruise. Even something as simple as someone brushing against my arm feels like a punch to my body.

On the inside, I’m screaming. Why? Why is this happening? Why is this happening to me? I keep asking questions that no one can answer. The frustration, the fear — it’s overwhelming. But on the outside? People see this strong warrior — this so-called “inspiration” they keep talking about. They see someone fighting with grace, pushing through each day with courage. What they don’t see is how tired I am. Tired of hurting. Tired of pretending I’m okay.

Today, I wanted to throw my hands up and say, “I’m done.” But I can’t. Because somehow, even when I feel like I have nothing left, I keep going. And I guess that’s what makes people say I’m strong. But today? Today I don’t feel strong. I feel exhausted. And I just want to know… when does this get easier?