Chemo

My mom started chemo today. My mom started chemo today. My mom started chemo today.

I keep repeating these words over and over again in my head, because it’s the only way they’re going to feel real.

Chemo and radiation, actually. Not just chemo.

Six weeks. She should be done December 15. Just in time for Christmas.

And here I am, worried that my sore throat, which in all likelihood is just a little sore for no real reason and probably doesn’t indicate any contagious disease that could be passed to my mom in her weakened-immune-system state, is some ridiculous cold that would keep me from seeing her this weekend. Worried that my roommate who felt really crappy today might pass on whatever bug she has, which would keep me from seeing my mom this weekend. Worried that I’ll have a cold next weekend when my extended family comes to visit, or that I’ll be sniffly on Thanksgiving, or that I’ll have a fever on Christmas.

That is, I’m worried about these things when I actually remember that my mom started chemo today. Chemo and radiation. The rest of the time it just seems unreal.