HOT

I am hot. Not H-O-T - hot, but hot under the collar, steamed, spicy, on fire.

Sometimes I have these moments that it really hits me that my daughter has cancer. Leukemia sounds so much better, less threatening, however they talk around here like she has cancer. Whatever the crap that means. Anyway, often in my head I validate it by repeating, "Emma has cancer." "My daughter has cancer." "Remember you've heard of cancer, you have it."

I know we are not the first to experience these things, but I really feel ripped off.

Right now Emma has a sore on her bottom the size of Grenada (you know a small country). This is something she should have to experience only at an older age and only after she's pushed a small, living human being out of her (which won't happen anyway). Do I sound bitter? I feel bitter. I am bitter.

I feel like hitting something. Maybe tomorrow I should go work out at the Jewish Community Center (free membership to all parents who have a kid with cancer). If only my legs would work after sleeping on this dam (ha, ha I spelled it wrong, doesn't count) faux leather couch. Has it only been two nights here? For the love!

Right now Emma is getting chemo called Methotrexate (google that one). It is bright yellow and makes her pee look like limeade. I will never drink limeade again... ever! She has to pee this out every two hours. It is toxic. She gets drops put in her eyes every three hours. You know, because the drugs could make her go blind. Nothing big. Stop the Madness!

I could go on and on because this was not my plan.

Did you know He talks to me even when I'm angry? He loves me and has a greater plan.

I will trust. It's soooooooo (remember when we wrote "so" like that in jr. high? ex. I like you sooooooo much) hard. H-A-R-D, hard!

The greater plan He has for me... I don't know, but I know Him, and that's enough.

Of this I testify.

Goodnight (or is it morning?).

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