Oh, how I do enjoy Wednesdays.
Left work at 1:15 with a fever of 100.5 degrees, slept pretty much straight from 1:40-4:30, drifted in and out of consciousness for a few hours, and in bed for the night by 9:00.
But that doesn't matter nearly as much as: only one more of the fuckers to go. Seven days from right now, I will be completely done with chemotherapy drugs. And 28 days from today is The End, in which I talk to my doctor, etc. Four weeks, I can handle. Especially because most of that four weeks will be drug-free and proud.
At the moment, I even feel pretty much like a normal human being, albeit a sleepy one.
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