So I'm a pessimist. I've never denied being one. The throat infection yesterday was bad so I expected a fever to follow suit, especially when my immunity system is compromised by the chemo treatment. The night air was dry so I left a glass of water on my bedside. By morning the water level was down by about an inch. When will the monsoon come?
See? My sister-in-law had breast cancer. She died a year or two ago from fever. At the time, nobody knew that fever and chemotherapy did not get along. That was why the oncologist and nursing team kept warning me to look out for the fever.
I was under strict instruction to admit myself into the Emergency Ward if my temperature hits 38 deg C or above. Antibiotics will then be intravenously administered following which, if it is God's will, I may live to fight another day. On that note, I sat down to write my Will. Yesterday.
My throat is a lot better this morning. Although my hair continued to fall, I am feeling a little less pessimistic and a little more optimistic. Someday in the foreseeable future, I will get that ratio right.
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