I'm sitting in my mom's basement and I'm quickly reminded of those days I sat in this same chair crying. I was battling for my life and I was mad and confused. How can somebody like me have to go through all of what I was going through? I remember sitting in this chair unable to laugh but so badly wanted to. I remember telling my mother that I could no longer do chemo. It was after my 2nd treatment and I felt like cramp. I cried and my mom stroked my head and said, you can do it. You have no other choice. I cried some more and decided that my mom was right. I had no other choice. I grew up here but my only memory right now is going through hell while sleeping in this small room and at times sitting in this chair alone. It was so hard.
